


Dizgaia ~ The Dreamfinder's Daughter

by Mara Sadowski (Calamitys_Child)



Series: Dizgaia [1]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Journey Into Imagination (Ride), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Sleeping Beauty - All Media Types, Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Multi, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 312,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamitys_Child/pseuds/Mara%20Sadowski
Summary: Mia Baxter thought she was familiar with the tales from Disney films, adapted from the stories of brilliant authors like Hans Christian Andersen and the Brothers Grimm. She never suspected their inspiration came from a very real but far away world, a world of which she was once a part.During a trip to Disney World, a heroic stranger whisks Mia away to an alternate universe where what she once believed to be fantasy is actually reality. It is here that Mia discovers she is coveted by the Dark Ones, a dangerous group of villains whom she thought only existed in fairytales. With the help of The Dreamfinder and Figment, Mia must travel the 10 Allied Kingdoms and seek the help of The Dizguardians to put a stop to the Dark Ones' evil schemes.Mia must learn to confront her flaws, overcome her doubts, face her fears, and learn confidence with the help of the most unlikely characters. Action, adventure, lust, and romance await Mia in this impossible fantasy world, and on her journey she must learn that even in a fairytale world, fairytale romances don't really exist, and that true love is often found where you least expect it.
Relationships: Ariel/Eric (Disney), Captain Hook/OC, Kevin Flynn/OC, Naveen/Tiana (Disney), Peter Pan/OC
Series: Dizgaia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201436
Kudos: 2





	1. The Birth of a Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a Disney-inspired fanfiction. Most of these characters (with the exception of Mia and Beverly and a few other original characters) belong to Disney, Hans Christian Andersen, and The Brothers Grimm (and so on and so forth).
> 
> Also, please note: The first couple chapters of this story are sort of a montage, to start. Then the time skips even out and we get into regularly flowing timeline.

_One little spark of inspiration  
Is at the heart of all creation  
Right at the start of everything that's new  
_ _One little spark lights up for you_

  
~ "One Little Spark," The Sherman Brothers

The dirigible made a sloppy landing atop the hospital. Sparks flew from the brass-plated steel as the bottom of the basket dragged across the roof. An orderly, who was taking his lunch break at what was usually a quiet and peaceful spot, gaped as the vehicle came to a screeching halt. A man with long, auburn hair and a closely-shaved beard jumped out. He lifted his goggles off his eyes and set them upon his top hat.

"P-Professor Mercurial!" the orderly exclaimed. "You can't park here!"

"I'm terribly sorry, but there simply wasn't room in the expectant fathers' parking," said the windswept man as he rushed by.

"But Professor!"

"Sorry, sorry! I'm in a hurry!"

He took the door to the interior and raced down the hallway, searching the signs for directions to the maternity ward. It was three floors down. He bypassed the elevator. He didn't have time to wait for it to ascend from the first floor. Instead, he took to the stairwell, leaping nimbly over the banisters, his long blue coattails fluttering behind him.

Second floor. The maternity ward. He hurried down the hallway, turning a corner so fast he ended up tilting sideways on one foot and skidded a few inches before righting himself.

"No running!" a nurse admonished as he nearly ran her over.

"Terribly sorry," he said, lifting his hat in an apology but not slowing. "Room 218... Room 218... Blast it, where is Room 218?"

He turned another corner and ran into a Baymax unit. He bounced off the inflatable body and very nearly went sprawling before catching himself.

"I do beg your pardon," he said.

"Please do not run in the halls," the Baymax said in its slow, pleasant voice. It carefully crafted each word, in no particular hurry to finish the sentence before Mercurial was out of earshot. "Running can lead to accidents. Accidents may result in injury such as bumps... bruises... abrasions... lacerations... or even..."

"Yes, yes, you overblown air mattress," the professor muttered as he rounded the next corner. Normally he was not so rude to the Baymax units. Although he found their obese, air-filled design a little silly, he nonetheless thought them a marvelous craftsmanship of both science and imagination. But at the moment, he was in a great deal of haste.

He heard a baby's cry, and although there were many infants on the maternity ward, he instinctively knew this was the one he was searching for. He followed the cries to Room 218 and flew into the room like a whirlwind. He could almost hear the Baymax unit admonishing him as he nearly tripped himself up over the maternity equipment.

"Am I too late?" he asked, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Just in time," said the doctor. She stepped aside and allowed him to approach the bed. Beverly Mercurial lay propped upon the pillows. Her brown hair was slick with sweat, but she was no less beautiful for it. In fact, she had never been more radiant.

"Beverly... Dear heart, I'm sorry. I wanted to be here sooner but—"

His wife silenced him with her warm, beautiful smile. "Would you like to hold your daughter?" she asked.

Professor Mercurial gulped nervously as his wife proffered the crying, fussy pink bundle.

"Uh..."

"You can't hurt her, Blair," she laughed. "She's your child."

Hesitantly and oh so carefully, Professor Mercurial took the crying baby into his arms. The child immediately ceased her cries and gazed up at him with wide hazel eyes. The professor gasped.

"What a spark! My child, you already have the makings of a fine Imagineer!"

"Now, honey, let's not start deciding her future so early."

"Oh, but can't you see her spark, dear? Such a wonderful spark!"

"Not without the right equipment, Blair. But as she's your daughter, I'm sure she's positively brilliant."

Smiling, the doctor asked, "Have you decided on a name for the baby?"

"Yes," said Professor Mercurial. "Her name is Miandra. In old Dizgaian it means _my dream_." He kissed his infant daughter on the forehead. "My greatest dream."

***

The joyous news spread quickly, and soon the Mercurial family was bombarded with friends and well-wishers. The birth of Professor Mercurial's first child was such a momentous occasion that even the princesses from the neighboring kingdoms could not stay away. Three days after Miandra's birth, they arrived on the Mercurials' doorstep bearing gifts for both mother and baby.

"Congratulations, Uncle Blair!" they cried.

Blair Mercurial, tousle-haired and groggy from another sleepless night, merely grunted as he stepped aside to bid them entrance. The gaggle of girls hurried over the threshold and converged on the baby.

"Oh, how sweet!"

"So cute!"

"She looks just like her daddy!"

"Mrs. Mercurial, you're still glowing! But how did you lose all that baby weight so quickly? You look amazing!"

"Oh, stop it," said Beverly, waving a hand dismissively, though she was smiling. "You're a terrible liar. I'm still as plump as a pumpkin."

"You certainly are not, and I know a thing or two about pumpkins."

Mirthful feminine laughter filled the house and Professor Mercurial took a seat at the table and buried his face in his arms with a groan.

"May I hold the baby, Mrs. Mercurial?"

"Certainly."

"Oh, look at her! Just look at her!"

"Can I hold her now?"

"In a minute."

"Oh, come on, Cindy!"

"Don't whine, Snow. It's very unbecoming."

Professor Mercurial got up to pour himself a cup of hot, black coffee as the princesses oohed and awed over his daughter.

"Really, now, ladies, it's not that we don't appreciate the visit, but however do you manage the time? Don't you have, you know, kingdoms to run?"

"Oh, Phillip can survive at least one day without me."

"My father's got it covered. Besides, I needed to stretch my legs."

"The dwarves are keeping an eye on things."

"Yes, and besides, we're not far if something were to happen."

Professor Mercurial grunted as he took a seat and sipped his coffee. His wife placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"Don't worry, dear. You'll have your turn to play with Miandra today. I promise."

"It's not that," he mumbled embarrassedly. "Just a little tired is all."

"Perhaps we should sing to her."

"Oh, yes! Let's!"

Professor Mercurial swiftly rose to his feet. "Perhaps I'll go to the lab today," he said throwing on his jacket. "See if I can get some work done." He kissed his wife, grabbed his coffee, and was out the door before the first note was sung.

***

Life with a new baby brought joy as well as challenges. Miandra was very much a typical baby, outside of her marvelous spark. It shone out brightly to any who had the ability to see it, but as an infant Miandra could not yet utilize her spark. Instead, she kept her activities to a minimum of laughing, crying, sleeping, eating, and soiling her diapers. It seemed to Blair that she soiled them faster than he could change them.

"What are you feeding that child?" he asked his wife one day.

"Just the usual stuff."

"Such as?"

"Baby food, of course, dear."

"Well, it isn't any wonder it comes out so fast, then, being nothing but mush. Can't you try her on something else?"

"I'm afraid not, dear."

But for all the soiled diapers and sleepless nights, it was worth it for that wonderful baby and all the joy she brought to their lives. And there was perhaps never a prouder father than Blair Mercurial. Every day, he arrived home from the lab with a spring in his step, eager to play with his baby girl. He had it far easier than Beverly, of course, who had to care for the baby all day while he was at work. Often, when he arrived home, both wife and daughter were in tears.

"I can't take it," Beverly cried to him when he arrived home one night. Her hair was a mess and her makeup undone. She held a dripping stirring spoon in one hand and a screaming, crying Miandra in the crook of her other arm. "She's been crying all day and I haven't gotten a single thing done. I'm trying to make dinner, but it's coming out all wrong, and Miandra is positively inconsolable!"

Professor Mercurial held out his arms. "Give her to me," he said gently.

Beverly handed the baby to him and Miandra immediately stopped crying.

"It's not fair!" Beverly cried. "Why does she always stop crying when _you_ hold her?"

"Aww, that's just because she's a daddy's girl. Isn't that right, Miandra?" he asked his daughter in baby-talk as he nuzzled his face to hers. Miandra cooed delightedly and gave his nose a squeeze.

Beverly's lips quivered and tears spilled down her cheeks. "It's not fair," she repeated.

"There, there, love," said Blair, lifting a hand and caressing her cheek. "Why don't you go upstairs and have yourself a nice relaxing bath? I'll take care of Miandra and have something from Tiana's Palace delivered for supper. How's that sound, dear heart?"

Sniffling, Beverly nodded and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, suddenly very much like a little girl.

"There we go," said Blair, placing a hand on his wife's back and gently ushering her towards the stairs. "Go on, now. Papa's got everything under control."

Once Beverly had departed for her bath, Blair went to the sitting room and took a seat in the rocking chair as he held his daughter.

"Now, Miandra, you have been quite the handful, haven't you? Look at all the grief you've caused your poor mother."

Miandra replied with a string of spit bubbles. Blair dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief.

"Now then, I think what _you_ need, my dear, is a playmate to keep you occupied. And what your mother needs is a babysitter to help take care of you. Perhaps we can create one in the same. Let's see now..."

He tilted his head pensively, considering his options a moment. Then, he nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I do believe that will do nicely."

Rocking his daughter, he began to sing to her. "Two tiny wings... Eyes big and yellow... Horns of a steer... but a _loveable_ fellow... From head to tail, he's royal, purple pigment. And then, viola! You've got a Figment!"

There was a fizzling and crackling in the air above them as though from a spark of electricity. Then, with a pop, a small dragon appeared, floating in the air above them.

"Ah! There you are, Figment!" Professor Mercurial exclaimed. "You look fantastic! Come and meet your new charge."

The small purple dragon, who looked every bit the way Blair had sung him to be, hovered down to eye level with the baby. Miandra giggled delightedly and reached her tiny baby arms out to the little dragon. Figment brought his face to hers and they nuzzled. In that moment, an instant friendship was born.

When Beverly returned from her bath with a towel wrapped about her head like a turban, she let out a gasp at the sight which met her in the sitting room – her husband, sitting contentedly in the lounge chair with his feet up, reading a book and smoking his pipe while Miandra lay in her playpen and a purple, horned creature fluttered around her.

"You gave our baby a _dragon!_ "

Blair glanced up from his book and took the pipe from his mouth. "Well, I _made_ him, to be precise. But yes. His name is Figment. Isn't he wonderful?"

Beverly pursed her lips as she removed her towel, allowing her long, wavy brown hair to fall around her shoulders.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of Miandra having a pet dragon."

"Oh, but he's not a pet, dear heart. He's so much more than that. He's a playmate and a guardian."

"A guardian?"

"Oh yes. Don't let his small, cuddly appearance fool you. Figment can be quite formidable and ferocious if the circumstance calls for it."

Beverly glanced towards the playpen. The small dragon hovered over Miandra with his fingers in the corners of his mouth, wagging his tongue and crossing his eyes as he made faces at the giggling baby.

"Ferocious?" she asked. "You're certain?"

"Oh, yes. Quite certain," he said, rising to his feet. "But only when the situation calls for it. And let's hope we never run into such a situation." He pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her. "Now, then, Naveen should be arriving with our dinner, shortly. Why don't you slip into something comfortable and we'll have a nice, romantic candlelit dinner, just the two of us."

"Well..." said Beverly, casting another glance at her baby and the silly dragon who seemed anything but ferocious.

"Figment's got everything taken care of here, don't you Figment?"

The small, purple dragon glanced up at his maker and gave him a little salute, his eyes still crossed. He gave his head a shake, uncrossed his eyes, and nodded affirmatively.

"See, dear?"

"Well, so long as he knows how to change diapers."

"Of course!"

Figment glanced at the baby, then at Professor Mercurial and made a face.

"Blech!"

***

Figment proved a steadfast guardian. He and Miandra were inseparable, and he was a huge help to Beverly, as well. It was said at the time that there was never a happier little family than the Mercurials, and this certainly appeared to be true. Professor Mercurial was the most beloved and imaginative man in the city. He had a beautiful wife and the most adorable baby girl in the kingdom. Truly, it seemed the Mercurial family knew nothing but bliss... until one fateful night.

"Blair! Blair, wake up!" Beverly hissed.

Blair snorted awake. "Wha? What izzit?"

"I heard a noise."

"Figment snores, honey. Go back to sleep," he said, rolling over.

"No. It wasn't that," she insisted, shaking him. "It was--"

A sound. Now he heard it too.

"Yes, dear," he whispered. "I believe someone's in the house. Wait here." He rose to his feet and, with a fizzle, summoned a long metal baseball bat into his hand.

"I am NOT waiting here," Beverly hissed, as she leapt out of bed and joined him. She followed him softly down the hallway. She gasped and pointed past him towards the nursery. "Did you see that?"

"What?"

"A green glow from Miandra's room. Is that Figment?"

Blair swallowed and his mouth became a firm, trembling line.

"No."

He choked up on the bat, holding it over his shoulder as he sidled into the baby's room. Beverly trailed close behind him but remained safely out of the trajectory of his swing.

All was still. The only light which illuminated the room was a tiny nightlight beside the changing table. Miandra was fast asleep in her crib with Figment curled up next to her. Whatever had awakened Beverly had not awoken them.

"Perhaps I just imagined it," Beverly whispered.

"I don't think you did," said Blair gravely as his eyes roamed the room. Then, he saw her. In the corner of the room, blending in with the shadows. He could see her yellow eyes watching him. His grip on the bat tightened and he pushed Beverly further behind him. "You!"

The dark fairy stepped forward, her horns brushing the ceiling.

"My dear Dreamfinder, it has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"What do you want with us?" he demanded, his voice surprisingly steady.

"I only wanted to see what was causing such an obtrusive, bright light. I could see it all the way from my castle. I must admit, I haven't slept a wink in months, so I just had to come and see what it was all about. And now that I've found it..." She approached Miandra's crib. "I intend to put it out!"

"NO!" Beverly rushed towards the wicked fae, but with a simple wave of her staff, the dark creature sent her flying backwards and crashing into the wall.

"Beverly!"

Miandra began to cry and Figment awoke with a start. He leapt from the crib and landed in front of the dark figure, growing until he matched her in height. Steam billowed from his nostrils and he blew a jet of flame at the enemy.

The yellow-eyed fairy raised an arm in front of her face, deflecting the fames with her shadowy cloak. "You simple, fool! You think a pet dragon can stop me? Let me show you what a REAL dragon can do!"

Maleficent stretched her arms from within her black cloak, raising them towards the ceiling. Her body became like a shadow and elongated until she burst through the roof. Beverly recovered just in time to snatch Miandra from her crib. Professor Mercurial wrapped his arms around his wife and baby and pulled them to the floor, shielding them from falling plaster and wooden beams.

Figment gazed up at his opponent, who was now a full-sized dragon. Gulping nervously, he glanced back at Blair and his wife holding their baby between them as they trembled beneath the might of the ferocious beast. Figment returned his gaze to the towering monster, his expression fierce. With a cry of rage, his small orange wings spread and his body stretched to maximum height. His sharp, curved horns burst through the ceiling, sending more plaster raining down into the nursery. Both at full size, the two dragons began to battle.

Green toxic flames billowed from the black dragon. Figment deflected them with a spray of orange fire. Teeth gnashed. Claws slashed. The black dragon let out a roar of pain as Figment's claw raked across her chest, leaving a formidable slash mark which oozed red fluid. Infuriated at the sight of her own blood, the black dragon retaliated, sinking her teeth into Figment's shoulder. A screech of agony shook the remaining eaves of the house. The baby's screams joined its crescendo and Beverly began to cry. Blair held his family tighter as his eyes prickled with tears, but he could not take his gaze away from the fight.

Figment spun his body around, sending his powerful tail crashing into his enemy. With a roar, the black dragon tumbled to the ground. The Mercurials' house shook, threatening to crumble in on itself. Figment was soon upon the black dragon, driving a powerful fist into its stomach. He raised his fist again and drove it down towards her head, but she rolled out of the way and kicked him in the chest, her claws raking his tender belly. Figment bellowed and tumbled backwards as the black dragon took to the sky.

Maleficent was retreating.

Figment clambered to his feet, ready to give chase, but Blair called out to him.

"FIGMENT! TO ME!" He held out his hand, hoping the dragon would return to him. The wound in his belly was fatal and needed immediate attention. If Figment took off with a wound like that, he would surely perish.

The purple dragon regarded his maker wearily, then reduced his size, tumbling into a heap on the floor of the nursery.

"Figment!"

The small dragon gave a feeble squeak as he hobbled over to Professor Mercurial, who placed his hand on the dragon's pink belly. A creature born of his imagination could also be healed by the same. Slowly, the wound closed up and the tender flesh was as good as new.

"Thank you, Figment," Professor Mercurial said, his voice tremulous and eyes filled with tears as he petted the dragon's small head. "You protected your charge well. You were wonderful. Rest now."

The small dragon lay down and placed his head on Blair's knee. Miandra ceased her screams and hooked a tiny hand around one orange horn. Beverly continued to sob. Blair Mercurial held his family tightly as sirens echoed throughout the city and rescue lights lit up the night sky.

***

"I really appreciate all the assistance you've given in rebuilding my home. It's been very touching to see the kingdom come together to help my family," said Blair, trying not to get choked up in emotion. "And allowing us to stay in the palace until it was finished. We are truly in your debt."

"Oh, Uncle Blair, don't be so formal. Please stop bowing. Don't you realize how much we all love you? Of course we were happy to help."

Professor Mercurial rose from his knee and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Again, thank you."

"How are Beverly and Miandra?"

"Miandra is right as rain. She's got Figment, after all. They've formed quite the bond. Beverly, however..."

"It can't be easy for a mother."

"No. No, it certainly isn't. She barely sleeps these days. At night, she stays in the rocking chair in the nursery, keeping constant watch over Miandra. I've assured her the kingdom is on high alert and that Figment will protect Miandra with his life, but it's still not enough."

The princesses exchanged concerned glances.

"That being said, I do have a request to make of your highnesses."

"Of course, Professor."

"Anything."

"I wouldn't normally make such a request, but for Beverly's sake, and for my daughter's, would it be possible, at least temporarily, to have some added form of protection? I hate to say 'guards,' but--"

"Done."

"You mean you'll--"

"Of course, Professor. Honestly, with you being such an important figure in the kingdom, we really should have thought of it before. It's just that The Dark Ones have been so quiet lately. We had hoped we'd heard the last of them."

"They seem to have targeted my daughter specifically. Maleficent spoke of Miandra's light. I fear it may be like a beacon to The Dark Ones."

"Then we shall do everything in our power to protect you."

Professor Mercurial bowed his head. "Thank you, your highnesses."

***

Blair returned home that night to an unusually quiet house.

"Beverly, honey?"

No answer. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

"Beverly?"

His heart began to race and his feet followed its lead, as he scoured the house in a panic.

"Beverly? Miandra?"

Figment met him at the top of the stairs.

"Figment! There you are, boy. Where have they gone off to?"

The expression on the small dragon's face was enough to drive an ice pick into his chest. Suddenly, he feared the worse.

"Show me," he told the little dragon.

Figment fluttered into the master bedroom. Blair followed close behind. He noticed the difference right away. The room he and Beverly had shared for many years now resembled the living space of a bachelor. Her belongings were gone. Only his remained. He ran to the nursery. All that remained was an empty cradle and the changing table. Miandra's belongings were also missing.

_No!_

Figment fluttered into the room, holding a piece of paper between his teeth.

"Let me see."

He took the proffered paper. He recognized Beverly's handwriting right away. His eyes prickled with tears as he read their contents.

_Dearest Blair,_

_It is with deep remorse that I write you this letter. Please understand that what I do, I do for Miandra. I am taking Alice's Mirror and returning to my home world. I cannot bear a life where my every waking moment I fear for my daughter's. Please try to understand._

_Though we be a world apart, I will always love you,_

_My beloved Dreamfinder._

_Beverly_

"No, no, no! Beverly! Miandra!" He crumpled the paper in his fist and wiped the back of his sleeve across his wet eyes.

Figment whimpered softly.

"Figment, how long ago did they leave? Is there any chance at all I could catch her?"

Figment nodded and dashed down the stairs. Blair followed, pausing only to grab his jacket off the chair. Figment took Blair's hat in his teeth, placing it upon his master's head and together they dashed out of the house.

_I shouldn't have told her about Alice's Mirror. If I hadn't, then she never would have... Oh, who am I kidding? The Imagination Institute never should have taken the damn thing to begin with!_

"I never should have let them out of my sight, even for a minute," he told Figment. "I knew Beverly was suffering, but I should've paid more attention to the signs. Oh Figment, I fear I won't make it in time."

Figment swerved in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Figment! What are you--"

Scrunching his face with effort, Figment's body gave a little twitch and he grew to the size of a horse. Spreading his wings wide, he made an encouraging sound and jerked his head, indicating that Blair should climb onto his back.

"Brilliant!"

Blair mounted the purple dragon, wrapping his arms tightly about his neck.

"Hurry, now!"

Figment's large wings beat the air and slowly they lifted off the ground.

"Oh, please do hurry, Figment!"

With a grunt of effort, Figment stretched out his long neck and took off like a rocket for the Imagination Institute.

Upon arrival, Figment reverted to his normal size and together he and Blair hurried inside. Dr. Channing was there to meet them.

"Professor! Thank heavens! Your wife has accessed the restricted area of the institute! I haven't the foggiest idea how."

"I presume she's taken my security clearance card," said Blair as he and Dr. Channing hurried to the elevator.

Dr. Channing swiped his own security clearance card through the card receptacle on the inside of the elevator and it swiftly descended to the basement floor of the institute.

"She seems fixated on Alice's Mirror. We've been trying to reason with her, but she won't listen."

They entered the restricted access chamber in the basement, where several forbidden articles were housed. Such articles included a magic lamp, a black flame candle, a black cauldron, a magical bed knob, and the Borgia Ring. Most artifacts of this sort were kept under lock in key in the castle. Only through a formal process involving requisition forms and strict protocols could The Imagination Institute acquire these artifacts for experimentation purposes. Currently, they were studying Alice's Mirror, an admittedly dangerous artifact, but if properly controlled and assigned other functions, such as that of a gateway to places aside from the hell that was Wonderland, it could be a very useful device.

Blair had been particularly excited about that project. He had told Beverly of their intentions to use the magic from Alice's Mirror to create devices that would allow for instantaneous transportation to and from the 10 kingdoms, and he often recounted their progress to her. They had finally made a breakthrough and, of course, in his excitement Blair had shared the news with Beverly. Now he wished he hadn't.

"She's got it into her head to return to Earth. Can you believe that?"

"She's been through a lot, Channing. The events of last month still prey heavily upon her mind. I have to wonder if she might be suffering some lingering post-traumatic stress. She's not thinking this through."

"We've been doing our best to hold her at bay and keep her from entering, but I'm afraid she's getting more desperate by the minute."

They rounded a corner and found her. She stood in front of the looking glass, wearing a rucksack and bedroll on her back and holding a crying Miandra to her breast. Surrounding her were Imagineers wielding non-lethal weapons, pointing them at the trembling, desperate woman. One held her at bay with a Chem-Ball gun. Another held a shrink ray.

"Please, Mrs. Mercurial. Listen to reason. Alice's Mirror is still very unstable. It's not safe."

"Y-yeah... and this is a restricted area. Even if you are the Dreamfinder's wife, you're still a civilian."

"Hold your fire, Honey Lemon," said Blair.

The young intern glanced over her shoulder at him. "Professor Mercurial! Thank goodness!"

"And Szalinski, if you shrink my wife and daughter, I'll clout you."

The awkward bespectacled man flushed and swallowed nervously. "B-But sir..."

Blair held up a hand and stopped in the center of the room, facing his wife, but not daring to get too close for fear he'd spook her headlong into the mirror.

"Beverly... honey..."

She clutched the baby to her chest, gazing at her husband with wide doe-like eyes. "You weren't supposed to come," she said. "I wanted to be gone before you came."

"Because it would be easier?"

She nodded.

Blair's eyes stung with the stirrings of tears, but he held them at bay as he tried to speak calmly to her "Beverly, dear heart, please think about what you're doing."

"But I _am_ thinking, Blair. I don't belong here. I never did."

"Then you regret it?" he asked, his voice starting to betray his emotions. "Everything?"

"No," she said softly. "Of course not. I love you."

"Then stay with me, Beverly."

"I can't! This place isn't safe for Miandra! I have to keep her safe. She's my daughter!"

"She's my daughter, too, dear heart. Don't you think I would do everything in my power to protect her?"

"I know you would try. But you can't. You can't protect her. That's why I'm going to take her far away from here."

"Please don't do this, Beverly. Snow and Cindy have offered us protection. There will be protective enchantments and guards to--"

"It's not enough," Beverly insisted, shaking her head so hard that her hair flew about her face. "Not against Maleficent."

"B-But Mrs. Mercurial," said Szalinski, "Alice's Mirror is still unstable. Who knows where you'd end up? There are infinite possibilities. Wonderland could be the least of your worries."

"That's not true!" Beverly insisted, looking at her husband. "Blair has already told me. You've stabilized it. Isn't that right, Blair?"

Blair, who had never so much as told even the smallest of fibs to his wife, was not about to lie to her now.

"That's true for the most part, dear. There are still risks, however."

"But you said if someone is strong willed enough, they can get the mirror to take them wherever they wish. Isn't that true?"

"Yes, dear. It's true."

"And am I not strong willed?"

"You are," he said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "You have always been very strong willed. It's one of the things I've always admired most about you."

"Then the mirror will work for me."

"Beverly, listen to me. Time works differently there. Even if you do return, half a century has gone by since you left. It'll be like going to a whole new world."

"I don't care. I will manage."

"But Mrs. Mercurial, that other world is so dark and dismal," said Channing, adding his voice. "Here we have a utopia. Well, at least, we're working on it. But we're far closer to achieving it than _that_ world will ever--"

"I don't care!" Beverly interrupted. "I know of all the suffering on that world. I once lived there! I know it's a dark, dreary world. But the one thing that world _doesn't_ have is what makes it far safer than this one." She turned her gaze specifically to her husband . "They don't have magic users. No witches or wizards or dragons!"

Figment, who hovered at Blair's side, let out a hurt little whimper and hung his head in shame.

"But all the same, they _do_ have villains, love. They may look different than the ones in our world, but make no mistake; there have been and always will be villains on that world, too."

"But they don't have magic powers, Blair! There are no evil witches or wizards to curse or kill my child! She is far safer in a world without them! And that is why I am leaving."

She took a backwards step towards the mirror. Blair knew he could not stop her physically. And if he ran towards her now, he'd only push her further. He lowered himself to one knee and held his arms out to her beseechingly.

"Beverly, I implore you, don't leave me. I-I love you, dear heart. I love you. Please..."

His wife shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ironically, now that Beverly had begun to cry, the baby had stopped.

"I love you, too, Blair. I'm sorry." She took another step backwards and a tiny little hand reached out from the small pink bundle.

"Da da!"

Those two precious syllables. How many long months had he been saying them to his daughter, trying to get her to say them back to him? And now, of all times... Those two syllables seized his heart and yanked him back to his feet.

"MIANDRA! BEVERLY, WAIT!"

Beverly held Miandra tighter to her. Her brown eyes shimmered with tears.

"Goodbye, Dreamfinder," she whispered.

"BEVERLY, NO!"

She stepped through the mirror and was gone.


	2. A Spark Burns Brighter

**~ March 2002 ~**

_"You know, I'm really not supposed to speak to strangers, but we've met before."_

"Mia, come help me set the table! I won't ask you again!"

_"I know you... I walked with you once upon a dream..."_

Four-year-old Mia stood in front of the TV in the living room, dressed in her favorite pink princess outfit. Ignoring her mother's request for help, she held her arms out to the sides, trying to dance like Aurora. Her long auburn hair swished from side to side beneath her silver tiara.

"MIA!"

No response from Mia. Beverly was just about to leave the kitchen and collect her stubborn daughter when the front door opened and her husband walked in with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder.

"Mmm. Something smells great." He gave his wife a kiss but took notice of her sour expression. "What's the matter, hun?"

"It's Mia. I've asked her a hundred times to help me set the table for supper, but she's glued to the TV."

Edward followed his wife's stern gaze through the pass-through window between the kitchen and living room. Mia was watching Disney's _Sleeping Beauty_ , and wearing a matching dress for the occasion. Prince Phillip had just arrived on the scene, tossing aside the friendly owl and taking Aurora's hand to dance.

"Well, this _is_ the best part of the movie," said Edward with a smile.

"I wish she wouldn't watch those movies so much. They give young girls such unrealistic expectations of men."

Edward turned to his wife in shock. "What? You mean I'm not exactly like the princes in those movies?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss against her neck.

"Oh, please." Her tone was reproving, but she wore an incriminating smile. Meanwhile, Prince Phillip and Aurora were getting acquainted.

_"I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."_

_"Oh, it wasn't that. It's just that you're a... a..."_

_"A stranger?"_

_"Mm-hm."_

_"But don't you remember? We've met before."_

_"We... we have?"_

_"Well, of course. You said so yourself. Once upon a dream."_

Beverly's expression soured again. "Besides," she said, pointing at the TV with a wooden spoon dripping with potato soup. "This one in particular always bothers me. The way the prince--"

"Phillip."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The prince's name is Phillip," Edward explained, matter-of-factly.

Beverly rolled her eyes. "The way the prince just grabs her and starts dancing with her even though she says he's a stranger. I feel like this sort of thing really sets us back on all the conversations we've had with Mia about not talking to strangers. All some pervert need do is walk up to her and tell he's a prince from her dreams and, God forbid, Mia will start dancing with him."

Edward released his tender hold on his wife and shook his head. "No. I won't allow that. Mia only dances with one man."

He joined his daughter in the living room where Prince Phillip and Aurora were having their first dance. Edward scooped Mia into his arms.

"Daddy!" she cried delightedly.

Holding his daughter, Edward danced to the music, singing along with Prince Phillip.

"I know you... I've walked with you once upon a dream..."

Mia wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled as they danced in tandem with the couple in the movie.

"I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam..." Edward's voice was clear, deep and strong, not so unlike Prince Phillip's. Had he been permitted to pursue his life's true ambition, he might well have been a singer.

Beverly watched her husband dance with her daughter and shook her head, but the smallest of smiles played across her face.

"Now, Mia," said Edward, setting her to the floor as the song ended. "It's time you help your mother in the kitchen like she asked."

"But--"

"We can pause the movie and finish watching it after supper. Deal?" He extended his fist to her.

Mia grinned and bumped his fist with hers. "Deal."

"All right, run along and set the table," said her father, giving her bottom an affectionate swat as she hustled into the kitchen.

After supper, they resumed the movie, Mia sitting perched on the edge of the couch between her father and mother. Edward continuously stole glances at his wife, who sat unusually stiffly. At the movie's climax, as Maleficent transformed into her dragon form, Mia cowered against her father, hiding her face in her hands and peeking out between the slats of her fingers. Beverly's face had gone pale and the set of her jaw suggested she was clenching her teeth behind her lips.

"That's it," she said tersely, rising from her seat. "This is obviously too scary for Mia."

"Bev, honey, it's a _Disney_ movie."

"Look at her, Edward."

"I'm fine, Mommy. Really, I am," Mia assured her, though this wasn't very convincing as she was still peeking out between her fingers.

"This part is supposed to be a little scary," said Edward with a tentative smile.

Beverly turned away from the television and left the living room without a word, leaving Edward and Mia to finish watching alone.

As Edward tucked Mia into bed that night, she gazed up at him with a solemnity so unbefitting her young age that he took pause to ask her what the matter was.

"Is Mommy okay?" she asked.

"Why do you ask, sweetie?"

"Well," she said, lowering her gaze and fiddling with the corner of her comforter, "She didn't finish watching the movie with us. I don't think she liked it."

"Your mother is weird about things like that, honey. She doesn't like sad or scary things."

"I don't either, but I still watch them. 'Sides, the movie ends happily ever after."

"I know, Mia. You're too young to remember, but you and your mother had a rough life before she met me. I think maybe she's a little traumatized."

"What's traumatized?"

"It's when something bad happens to you and you can't get it out of your head. Sometimes sad or scary things make you think about it even more."

Mia chewed her lip in a pensive manner. "Do you think it has something to do with my bia... bia-logic father?"

"Your biological father?"

She nodded. Sometimes Edward was astounded by how intuitive his daughter was.

"Maybe," he said, "I can't say for certain."

"Did you know him?" she asked.

"No, sweetie. I didn't."

"Mommy won't talk about him."

"I think it makes your mommy sad to talk about him."

Mia let out an aggrieved sigh that sounded like it should have come from a much older woman. "I wish I knew what he was like."

"I wish I could tell you," said Edward, "but what I _can_ tell you is that he loved you very, very much."

The girl's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "Really? How do you know?"

"Because you're so cute," he said, tweaking her nose. "Besides, all fathers love their daughters. It's a rule."

Mia smiled. She knew she could believe him. Her daddy always told her the truth.

"You know what else is a rule? That fathers have to tickle their daughters!" His fingers went for her armpits, digging into her sides.

Mia squealed. "Ha, ha, ha! No, Daddy!"

"I'm sorry, Mia. I can't help it. It's the rules." He lifted her nightshirt and blew a raspberry against her belly. The little girl's pealing laughter filled the bedroom.

Once Edward met his tickle quota and Mia's laughter had subsided, he pulled the comforter back over her and tucked her in.

"Bedtime," he said as he pressed his lips to her forehead. He switched on the small Mickey Mouse nightlight before turning off the overhead and stepped into the hallway. Before he closed the door, Mia called out feebly to him.

"Daddy, I'm scared."

"What are you scared of, honey?"

"Witches," she mumbled embarrassedly. "And dragons."

"Like the one in the movie?"

She nodded.

"Aw, sweetie, Maleficent isn't real. And even if she was, Prince Phillip killed her. Remember?"

Mia chewed her lip in contemplation.

"Besides, not all dragons are bad. They just get a bad rap. Here, look."

He reached towards the top of a shelf piled high with stuffed animals and took down two stuffed dragons. They'd once belonged to him when he was a young boy and were well-worn with age.

"Like Figment and Elliot. They're _good_ dragons. They'll protect you." He handed them to her, tucking one under each arm. "How about that?"

Mia smiled and nestled deeper beneath the covers, cuddling the fierce but loveable guardians.

Edward leaned down and gave her forehead another kiss.

"Good night, Mia."

"G'night, Daddy."

**~ December 2004 ~**

"As he stood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding through the air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Peter kick instead of stab. At last, Hook had got the boon for which he craved. 'Bad form,' he cried jeeringly, and went, content to the crocodile. Thus perished James Hook."

"This book's a lot different from the movie," said Mia, as though she'd spotted an error.

Edward sat beside her in bed, one arm wrapped around his six-year-old daughter and the other holding the book with his thumb on the inside spine.

"You mean the Disney movie?"

Mia nodded.

"Well, sweetie, Mr. Walt Disney based many of his movies on existing fairy tales and just changed them a little."

"Then which one is the right one?"

"Neither one is exactly wrong, honey. I suppose some would argue that the original source material is the 'true' story, but if you ask me, I think the truth exists somewhere in between."

"Somewhere in between?"

"Sure. Why not? You know, sweetie, if you'd like, we can read some Hans Christian Andersen and Grimms Fairy Tales."

"Who're they?"

"They were the original writers of a lot of the stories that Disney movies are based on. Would you like me to read some to you?"

"Yeah!"

"But I have to warn you," he said, holding up a precautionary finger. "Some of the stories don't end happily ever after. Are you sure you can handle it?"

Mia tilted her head in silent contemplation. She looked so uncharacteristically pensive that Edward had to stifle a laugh.

"Yes, Daddy. I'm sure."

"All right, then. I'll see if I can find a collection of Andersen and The Brothers Grimm. Then we can start reading them together."

"How soon?" Mia asked, already impatient to get started.

"Soon enough," her father said, ruffling her hair. "Now, should we finish Peter and Wendy tonight or wait till tomorrow night?"

"Tonight! Tonight!"

"All right, then. But you have to promise to go to bed immediately after or you'll get me in trouble with your mother."

Mia nodded and snuggled up against him. Keeping an arm tightly around her, Edward picked up where he left off, but by the time he finished, Mia was already fast asleep.

Despite Edward's penchant for physical copies, for he did so love the feel and smell of a good book, Mia simply could not wait for the mail, and thus he purchased eBook copies. From then on, their bedtime activity of reading through Hans Christian Andersen and The Brothers Grimm commenced. It wasn't long before the intelligent little girl was able to read them out loud to her father, her tiny finger scrolling through the text on his iPad.

"I really wish you wouldn't read such things to her," said Beverly one night after they'd settled down to bed. "She's awfully young for that sort of literature."

"For fairy tales?"

Beverly sighed. "To be fair, those are hardly the innocent happy-go-lucky sorts of fairy tales most parents read to their daughters."

"You'd prefer I just let her watch the Disney movies?"

This was also often a point of contention between them. Beverly did not share her husband and daughter's love for Disney films.

"What is it you don't like about them? If you're looking for a happily ever after, that's your most obvious go-to."

"It's not that," she sighed.

"Unrealistic expectations again?"

"That's part of it."

"Didn't you watch Disney films when you were a kid growing up?"

"Well, sort of."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Edward. Good night."

**~ October 2006 ~**

"Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Baxter. Coffee?"

"Coffee would be nice, thanks."

Edward sat in one of the too-small chairs that were made to fit eight-year-old children, and certainly not a grown man in his mid-30s. He'd been called to a conference with Mia's second grade teacher, Mrs. Colton. Normally, Beverly would handle this sort of thing, but she was working the graveyard shift at the hospital tonight, and so it was up to him to handle this. Whatever 'this' was. Edward sat, twiddling his thumbs nervously until Mrs. Colton returned with his coffee.

"Thanks," he said.

"Well, now, Mr. Baxter. I appreciate you coming on such short notice."

She took a seat at her desk, placing herself at a good three heads above him. Edward didn't much like the way he was forced to sit like a child gazing up at an intimidating authority figure. He wondered if she did this on purpose.

"Is Mia in some sort of trouble?" he asked stiffly.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. Actually, Mia is incredibly gifted for her age. She's reading and writing at a level far beyond that of a typical second grader. She's very advanced and, as such, I'm afraid there's not much more I can teach her. I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of moving her up a couple of grades."

"Well, I'm certainly pleased to hear that," said Edward, choosing his words carefully, "And I am immensely proud of Mia, but I don't want to rush her into growing up too fast. There's a lot of demands placed on a child who's moved forward so quickly. Intellectually and imaginatively, she may be advanced for her age, but emotionally and maturity-wise, she's still very much an eight-year-old girl."

"Your concerns are valid, Mr. Baxter, but I urge you to give more consideration to this before dismissing it entirely. I'm afraid if she remains in her current environment, Mia may feel unchallenged and become bored and restless. The results of which often are, I'm sorry to say, that of a problem child."

Edward bristled. "Wait a minute. Is this what this is really about? You're afraid Mia is going to become a troublemaker?"

"Well, that's a possibility," said Mrs. Colton, who was becoming rather flustered. "But I'm also thinking of what's best for Mia's future."

Edward rose angrily to his feet. "As Mia's father, I know what's best for her future. I assure you I will do everything in my power to keep Mia's mind challenged and occupied, so you don't need to worry about that."

"Mr. Baxter!"

But Edward stalked out of the room without a second glance.

"It wasn't right of you to make that decision without me," said Beverly that next morning as Edward was getting ready for work. She still lay in bed, with her arms crossed beneath the comforter. Edward would have liked to let her sleep after working third shift at the hospital, but she'd pressed him about his meeting with Mrs. Colton and he felt it was best to tell her sooner rather than later.

"I'm sorry, Bev. But it really felt like the right decision to me."

"If Mia is truly so gifted, don't you think we ought to cultivate that?"

"There are more ways to cultivate intelligence and creativity than moving her up two grades. All the kids will be older than her. It'll be hard to fit in. Besides, her math skills are abysmal. But Mrs. Colton didn't even consider that."

"I can help her with math."

"I'm sure you can, hun. But let's not try to make her grow up too fast, huh?"

"Why is this so important to you? What's wrong with growing up?"

"Listen, honey. This is something I know a lot about. My childhood was far too brief. I was rushed to perform. I want better for Mia."

"Your childhood? Honey, you've never said anything about it before."

"I've dropped enough hints, Bev."

"I'm not a mind-reader, Edward."

He sat on the edge of his bed and leaned over his wife, kissing her sweetly. "I know, hun. I'm sorry. But please trust me on this. For Mia's sake. A spark burns brighter when it's given time to kindle."

Beverly sighed. "I can't argue with you when you're waxing poetic."

Edward flashed her the boyish grin that she so loved, but she nonetheless turned her gaze away with a melancholy air.

"Sometimes you remind me so much of my first husband."

"Why is it you won't tell me about him? Are you afraid it would make me insecure? Because I promise you, Bev, that's not the case. I knew when I married you that I could never replace your first husband, but I'm supremely happy simply loving you and being loved by you. And I'm happy being Mia's father. If it weren't for you, I'd never have such a lovely little girl in my life."

And indeed, one of Edwards greatest sorrows was that he could have no children of his own, but Mia mitigated that pain. She was his most precious treasure.

"It's not that," Beverly murmured, suddenly sounding very much like a little girl herself.

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

~~~

Somewhere dark and dismal, three wicked figures huddled around a fourth who gazed long and hard into the turbulence of a tall, dark mirror. The others saw nothing, but that fourth more formidable figure saw exactly what she needed to.

"Her spark grows bright," she intoned.

"Whose?"

"Mercurial's daughter."

All at once, they began to speak, arguing about what should be done.

"Then we must eliminate her."

"It's too risky to go to the other side. Besides, she's still young. She's harmless."

"And when she's older?"

"Then, perhaps, there may be room for concern. But that world is so full of darkness, it may yet snuff out her light."

"But if her spark should grow brighter?"

"Then we extinguish it."


	3. A Meddlesome Father

**~ Fall 2017 ~**

Professor Tremblay was quite austere in every aspect of her person, which, in Mia's opinion, was the perfect quality for an English Writing instructor. She was also the head of the English Department at the college, and so her competency was assured. In her second year of college, Mia wanted every opportunity to improve her skills, and thus hoped that her new professor might give her the honest feedback she was looking for.

Her freshmen year had been almost too successful. She'd received plenty of praise from teachers and peers alike. But she knew she was not perfect. Nobody was perfect. There was always room for improvement. She so desperately wanted to know what she could do to improve, but no one seemed inclined to offer any constructive criticism.

It was thus Mia deduced freshmen year to be the "feel-good year" where they buttered you up to hold your interest and keep up the student retention rate. She had high hopes that sophomore year would be more fruitful and allow her more opportunities to grow and improve. With a teacher like Professor Tremblay, that seemed a guarantee. But something far worse happened.

Her peer reviews were returned with heaps of praise, but her grades were disheartening. It seemed Professor Tremblay did not share the opinions of Mia's fellow students. Mia knew she needed to speak with Professor Tremblay, but she was hesitant. Her nerves had the better of her.

What if Professor Tremblay told her she was complete rubbish? She so wanted to be a novelist. She'd put all her hopes, dreams, and efforts into this one avenue of pursuit. Writing was the only college major that appealed to her. It was the only thing that made sense. Were she a stronger artist, she might have pursued that, but that was only ancillary to her writing talent. She could not bear to hear someone tell her she was no good. It would be so discouraging. Nonetheless, her meeting with Professor Tremblay was inevitable, for in the end, it was Professor Tremblay herself who requested the meeting.

Mia sat in a chair in Professor Tremblay's office, feeling suddenly very small and meek as the sharp-dressed woman stood at her desk, gazing down at her with her penetrating green eyes. Every day, Professor Tremblay wore the same outfit, a red blazer and matching dress pants with a high-collared blouse. Although this was her daily attire, it was nonetheless clean and freshly pressed, never once giving the appearance of having been worn more than a single day.

Mia did not know whether Professor Tremblay had several of the same outfit or simply washed and ironed her business professional attire on a daily basis. Either seemed likely to fit the woman's punctilious disposition. Likewise, her gray hair was meticulously maintained in a tight pompadour, giving her the look of a woman from another time. Her vibrant green earrings and large, matching ring struck a familiar cord with Mia, though she couldn't quite place it.

"Miandra, if I may be candid..."

"Oh, just Mia is fine."

"Miandra, your grades this semester have been... disappointing... to say the least. At this time, I would advise dropping my class to preserve your GPA."

"But I really need this class, Professor Tremblay. It's required for my major."

The stone-faced woman raised a single thin eyebrow. "So, you're majoring in English?"

"Yes, ma'am. With a concentration in writing and a minor in art."

Professor Tremblay tsked, shaking her head. "Miandra, it's hard for me to say this, but for your own good, allow me to be blunt. You are in the wrong field of study."

Slowly, she circled around her desk and, with cat-like grace, took a seat in her chair.

"Your technical skills are average at best, and your imagination leaves a lot to be desired."

"My imagination?" This came as quite a shock. If anything, Mia thought her imagination was her strong point and her technical skills what needed improvement.

"Well, I suppose there is _something_ there, but many of your concepts are trite and gratuitous. Much of your writing I found to be ingratiating and shamelessly self-promoting."

Professor Tremblay rested her elbows on her desk and entwined her long fingers.

"Frankly, Miandra, I simply do not believe you have what it takes. That is my honest opinion. I would suggest a change of majors or transferring to a different college entirely. You are simply not cut out to be a writer. Do yourself a favor and don't waste any more of your parents' money. There are plenty of other careers out there, and to be honest, a novelist is simply not a viable way to make a living anymore. That would be true even if you were talented."

Mia was devastated. If the head of the English Department said she wasn't cut out to be a writer, then surely it must be true. Just like that, all Mia's dreams were dashed and her ambitions shattered. Thus, it was in the first semester of her sophomore year that Miandra dropped out of university.

~~~

"That witch!" her father fumed. "What does _she_ know?"

"She's the head of the university English Department," Mia replied sullenly over her first home-cooked meal since returning from school. "I assume she knows a good deal."

Edward refused to accept it, which didn't make it any easier on Mia. Her mother, however, took a more practical stance on the matter.

"I know you're disappointed, sweetie, but don't give up on college entirely. There are many more viable career options available to you."

_Yes, that's what Professor Tremblay said, too,_ Mia thought, but she held her tongue.

"I encouraged you to go into nursing when we were first looking at colleges, remember? Why don't you give that some consideration? I can even tutor you, if you need help."

"I just don't know," Mia sighed as she pushed her food around with her fork.

"I've made a successful career of nursing for 18 years now and I find it very fulfilling. Wouldn't you like to help people?"

"It's not that I don't want to help people," said Mia. "It's just that I thought I could bring joy to people through my writing."

"Well, dear, maybe you can still dapple on the side. But with all the technology today, nobody really reads books anymore. I suppose you could try self-publishing on the internet, but there's so much competition now, and it's difficult to make a sustainable income that way. These days the only way an author makes anything off their work is if Hollywood decides to make a movie of it. You need something to fall back on, honey."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Mia rose from her seat, her food untouched. "May I be excused? I have a lot of unpacking to do and I'm tired after the long trip." She didn't wait for permission before leaving her parents alone in the dining room.

"This is crazy," said Edward once she'd left. "It doesn't make any sense. You know as well as I that she's an incredible writer."

Beverly sighed. "Be that as it may, perhaps it's for the best. What sort of future would she have as a struggling author?"

"But it's always been her dream, Bev!"

Beverly shook her head sadly. "Not all dreams are meant to come true. There's a reason the phrase 'starving artist' exists. I don't want my only daughter living in squalor. We won't live forever, Edward. I want to know that she'll be financially secure when we're gone."

As Mia slept off her first real heartbreak and disappointment, Edward slipped stealthily into her bedroom. Once, this room had been filled with all the precious treasures of a little girl. Now, its décor spoke more to the dreams and ambitions of the young woman who resided within it, but there were still remnants of the Disney-loving child she'd once been. While the Mickey Mouse nightlight was long gone, the two stuffed dragons, Elliot and Figment, remained, and a poster of her favorite Disney princess, Belle from Beauty & The Beast, hung on the wall. Her book shelves were filled to bursting with stories of Hans Christian Andersen, Brothers Grimm, Jules Verne, Robert Louis Stevenson, J.R.R Tolkien, and perhaps the most crinkled with use, having been read time and again, was James M. Barrie's 'Peter Pan.'

Pinned to the walls were sketches of characters and places she'd made up; intricate maps of fictional worlds, pirate ships, space colonies, and fantastic creatures all drawn by her hand and born of her own imagination. Mia only dappled, but in Edward's opinion, she could easily be a concept artist or a storyboarder. But what really impressed and inspired were her stories, and it was these which he now sought.

Mia lay on her stomach on the bed, still fully clothed, with one arm hanging off the side of the mattress, snoring the wet snores of someone who has cried themselves to sleep. As Edward gazed upon his only daughter, he was filled with overwhelming love for her.

_I refuse to let your dreams be shattered, Mia. I won't allow that to happen. Even if it means going behind your back._

He crept to her desk where she kept her laptop and found what he was looking for. Despite her youth, Mia kept all her work on an external drive rather than the cloud. Unlike their shared preference for physical books over electronic ones, this little idiosyncrasy was all Mia. Her stories were like her children, each one special and priceless to her. The thought of losing a single one of them was too much to bear. Much like a mother refuses to let her small children wander the streets unattended for fear they may be kidnapped, Mia refused to allow her treasured work to exist anywhere on the internet where the risk of piracy was simply too great. Instead, she kept her treasures locked away in single device to which only she had access.

What Mia hadn't considered were other forms of piracy. In this instance, the pirate, Captain Edward Baxter, found her tiny thumb-shaped chest of treasures and slipped it into his pocket. However, his intentions were good, and by morning the flash drive was returned to its spot, everything still safe and sound within it and Mia none-the-wiser to her father's marauding. At least, not yet.

Three weeks went by since Edward's mischief. During that time, Mia lived a dreary routine of merely eating and sleeping. Beverly got on her case, insisting she either look into other colleges and consider other majors, or at least get a job if she wasn't ready to go back to school, but Mia was resistant, citing her depression as an excuse, and promising to have her act together in a couple of weeks.

"It's always _a couple more weeks_ with her, Edward," Beverly complained. "She needs to do something with herself rather than being a bump on a log."

"Do people still say that?"

Beverly gave him a reproachful look and he at once grew humble.

"Sorry, hun."

"It's that attitude that doesn't help her, Edward. I wish you'd do something to encourage her. She can't keep living this way."

"Just give it a little more time," he said. "You've got to have faith that everything will work out the way it should."

"Faith and hope isn't enough, Edward. At some point, a girl has to take charge of her own life."

"Just give it a little longer, Bev."

"One more week, Edward. That's it. Then I'm afraid we'll have to show her some tough love."

On the fourth week, the fruits of Edward's labor made themselves known. Late one sleepless night, Mia sat at her desk, the only light source the luminescence of her laptop screen as she aimlessly surfed the web. Finding nothing of interest, for she'd become jaded to many things as of late, she decided to give her inbox one last peruse before calling it a night. There was a new email from a sender she didn't recognize. From somebody affiliated with... Disney? The subject line read, _Internship._ Curious, and against her better judgement, for Mia was a cautious and skeptical person by nature, she opened the email.

_  
Dear Mia,_

_We are sending this email as a follow-up to your application with Disney. We were touched by your personal story and inspired by your writings, and we believe you are a good candidate to join our creative writing team. Typically, we prefer our applicants to have a college degree; however, your writing impressed us and we think we may have a place for you in our internship program. Please respond within the next two weeks so that we can schedule an interview. Please be prompt, as the deadline for this internship is fast approaching._

  
Beneath this was a phone number and email address where her could contact them and the signature line with best wishes and good luck on her upcoming interview. Mia couldn't believe it. They thought her writing was good! Disney wanted to interview her for an internship!

Although it was well past midnight, Mia could not contain her excitement and she leapt to her feet, calling for her father.

Edward and Beverly raced into the room, Beverly in the midst of tying her robe to hide her adventurous negligee from her teenage daughter, and Edward in his nightshirt and pajama pants.

"Mia! Is everything all right?"

"You are a sneaky, meddlesome father," she accused.

Edward looked flabbergasted.

"You filled out an application and sent my portfolio to Disney, didn't you?"

"Uh... y-yes," Edward stammered, worried that he'd incited her ire. "But how did you--"

Mia threw her arms around him. "And I'm glad you did! Thank you so much!"

"Mia," said her mother, brushing her tousled hair out of her eyes with exasperation. "What _are_ you going on about?"

Mia showed them the email. "See? They want to schedule an interview with me! Isn't that great?"

"It's wonderful, Mia!" Her father picked her up and twirled her around as though she were a little girl again. "Do you see now? You've got a gift, honey. That mean old witch didn't know what she was talking about."

Mia wrapped her arms around her father and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for believing in me, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too, Mia."

~~~

The road trip to Orlando was a long, but pleasant journey. Mia and her father played their favorite Disney show tunes and sang along to get themselves in the spirit. Edward's phone was positively filled to bursting with Disney sing-a-longs from Snow White all the way to Disney's most recent films. Aladdin's _A Whole New World_ drew to a close and the most popular song from Disney's _Frozen_ followed.

_"Let it go, let it go..."_

Mia and Edward's fingers raced for the skip button. Edward got to it first. Father and daughter exchanged glances and laughed.

"I guess we're both still recovering from that one," said Mia.

"Christmas of 2013?"

"Ugh," Mia groaned. "Brianna wouldn't stop singing it."

Four years ago, Mia's uncle on her father's side and her 6-year-old cousin, Brianna, had come to visit for the holidays. The Disney movie, _Frozen,_ had been released a month earlier and Brianna, like many little girls her age, was positively obsessed. For the whole week leading up to Christmas, she went back and forth between wearing Elsa and Anna's dresses, and she sang _Let It Go_ absolutely nonstop. Brianna's parents thought it was adorable, but by Christmas morning Mia, Edward, and Beverly were ready to pull their hair out.

"Remember she kept insisting everyone call her _Anna_ instead of _Brianna_?"

"Oh my God. I'd almost forgotten about that," said Mia, laughing.

"I mean, really, the movie's good, but the best Disney animated feature since their renaissance era? I don't think so."

"Yeah. Like, Moana, anyone?"

"And what's with this recent shying away from the title of the source material?" asked Edward. "Hans Christian Andersen's _Snow Queen_ is now _Frozen_. They did the same thing with _Rapunzel_ , turning it into _Tangled._ "

"I guess they're avoiding putting feminine names in the titles so they can cater to little boys, too."

"Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid... They didn't have to change the names to entice me when I was a little boy. I loved those movies growing up."

"And the story itself. It's not like Disney's never deviated from the original fairytale, but..."

"In the Hans Christian Andersen version, the Snow Queen was a straight-up villain. In Frozen, she was a kindhearted princess who was just misunderstood."

"Yeah," said Mia, "Though it was pretty cool how they turned it into a story of inner conflict for the character."

"And making the protagonist her sister," said Edward. "That was an interesting choice."

"And the twist at the end. You think Kristoff is gonna break the spell with true love's kiss, but it's the love of her sister that saves her."

"Final conclusion, it's a good movie."

"But that song..."

"It's not even a bad song, really," Edward admitted.

"Just overdone."

"Totally."

Next in the lineup was _Something There_ from _Beauty and the Beast._ Mia and her father quickly took up the duet.

"There's something sweet and almost kind  
But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined  
And now he's dear and so unsure  
I wonder why I didn't see it there before."

"She glanced this way, I thought I saw  
And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw..."

Mia watched her father as he sang. He had such an amazing voice. It wasn't any wonder he so desperately encouraged her to follow her dreams. He'd once wanted to be an opera singer, but his strict parents had forced him onto a career path in law, and now for the past 20 years he'd been a clerk in a law firm. It was a well-paying job, but in other ways very unfulfilling. Mia's heart ached for her father, and yet she was moved by the way he always advocated for her own passions.

"But then she's never looked at me that way before..."

Edward gave her a questioning look as she missed her cue because she'd been staring at him, lost in thought. Blushing embarrassedly, Mia quickly took up Belle's part once more, racing to catch up with the vocalist.

"N-New and a bit alarming.  
Who'd have ever thought that this could be?  
True that he's no Prince Charming  
But there's something in him that I simply didn't see."

Mia smiled at her father and he smiled back. They continued to sing, and Mia marveled at the relevancy of the song. She was seeing her father in a whole new light, and suddenly her heart seemed to be bursting with love for him.

As they crossed the Florida state border, jackets were doffed and windows were rolled down to let in the warm winter air. They stopped for a quick bite to eat just outside of Orlando and arrived at The Walt Disney World Casting Center with five minutes to spare.

"Are you really going to just wait in the car? It's 70 degrees out here."

"I'll keep the AC running."

"What about gas?"

Edward waved a hand dismissively. "A small price to pay to make my daughter's dreams come true."

Mia smiled and appraised herself in the rear-view mirror, fixing her hair and checking her makeup. For her interview, Mia donned a blue blazer and matching pleated skirt of modest length. She turned to her father.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Like the prettiest Disney Princess I ever saw."

She rolled her eyes. "I was going for business professional, but thanks, I guess." She brushed the lint off her skirt and stepped out of the car. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," said Edward, "But I don't think you'll need it."

Her father's confidence in her fueled her own, and Mia walked into the casting office with a spring in her step and her head held high. The lobby featured a high ceiling and golden statues of familiar Disney characters. She passed paintings of the park and other Disney intellectual property to the check-in area on the second floor. Soon after, she was called down to the lower level where the interviewer awaited her in a briefing room.

The interviewer was an older gentleman with a Walt Disney mustache, looking very much like he wished to capture the essence of the founding father. His countenance was more serious than Mia expected and she suddenly became very nervous. But the moment she began answering his questions and showed him her portfolio, his expression softened and Mia relaxed.

When she returned to the car, her father was on pins and needles.

"Well?" he said. "How did it go? Hurry, tell me! I'm about to have a coronary here!"

Mia had cleverly hidden her face in her long hair, letting it fall like curtains around her so her father couldn't see her expression. Finally, she lifted her head to him, grinning.

"I've been accepted for the internship. They're going to contact me in two weeks to come down for an orientation at Disney World!"

Edward gave his daughter a high five. "That's my girl!" he proclaimed. "Time to go out and celebrate! I wish I could afford to treat you to a Disney World trip, but I'm afraid you'll have to settle for ice cream."

"Ice cream sounds great, Dad. And don't worry, I think we'll have plenty of opportunities to visit Disney World very soon."

And, indeed, they did, for two weeks later, a letter came in the mail.  
  


_Dear Mia,_

_Congratulations on accepting our internship offer! We are excited that you will be joining our team.  
_ _  
As part of joining the company, we need to collect additional information from you for human resources. Please follow the steps below to provide this information. Your prompt attention is appreciated.  
_ _  
In addition, you are required to attend a two-hour orientation before your official start date. For most, this will take place at The Walt Disney World Casting Center. However, as a way of expressing our gratitude to our most talented of applicants, you are among a few that have been selected to attend orientation at The American Adventure VIP Lounge in Epcot. You may bring one guest with you for an all-expense paid trip to Disney World.  
  
_ _The date of your orientation is listed below. Please bring a portfolio of your work for further review._

_Best regards,_

_Disney Recruiting_

  
Mia, of course, chose her father to accompany her as her guest. He was the biggest Disney fan she knew, and without his meddling she never would have gotten this wonderful opportunity. Her mother did not seem unhappy for her, per se, but she was rather reserved in her excitement, which confused Mia a good deal. She knew her mother had been pushing her to go into nursing, but that was only because she didn't think Mia could make a viable living as a writer. But now, here was an opportunity for her to do so.

She didn't understand her mother's lack of enthusiasm. Did it really mean so much to her that Mia follow in her footsteps? Whatever the case, Mia was certain it would all turn out right in the end. When her mother saw how successful she was to become as a writer for Disney's creative team, things would change. Mia just knew she was in for a world of good fortune and adventure.


	4. The Rainbow Corridor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of French dialogue in here for atmosphere. Please be advised that I am not remotely fluent in French and therefore it could be quite bad. If so, and any reader sees fit to advise me how to properly edit the dialogue, your critiques are more than welcome. Thanks! =)

Kevin Flynn reclined on one of the cushy red couches in The American Adventure VIP Lounge, sucking a can of soda through a straw as some W.E.D. officials entered and began speaking quietly amongst themselves. How unfair. He had come here for some peace and quiet after fixing the Fredrick Douglas animatronic after it started tweaking out, but these stuffed-shirt company men were encroaching upon his private time. Soon, three others joined them. They were all young; college-aged, by the look of it. Perhaps some new recruits. They began their meeting and Flynn put on a pair of headphones to drown them out.

The last to enter was a young woman. Aged eighteen to twenty, if Flynn were to guesstimate. Attractive, too, with long auburn hair, skinny jeans, ankle boots and a green denim over-shirt. She wore a backpack and had a starry-eyed look of anticipation and wonder about her.

He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out his phone which bore the same swirly pink symbol as the logo that adorned his shirt. He held up his phone, looking as though he were attempting to snap her picture, but in fact, he was viewing her through a very special lens that allowed him to see something he couldn't see with his naked eyes. Sure enough, it was as he suspected. A brilliant light emanated from the girl, far brighter than any he'd seen for a long time. He nearly spat out his soda.

"Am I late?" the girl asked, glancing at her watch.

"I'm sorry, Mia," said one of the W.E.D. officials. "But some new information has come to light. I'm afraid you're not a good match for us."

"I'm sorry? I don't understand. I was under the impression I was more or less hired and this meeting was just a formality."

"Yes, that's true. But again, some new information has come to light--"

"Could you please tell me what you're referring to?"

The two men exchanged glances.

"We followed up on your resume. You stated you briefly attended Melrose University of Liberal Arts."

"Yes, that's true."

"Well, Mia, you failed to inform us that you were kicked out."

"Kicked out? I wasn't kicked out. I dropped out because--"

"We spoke to the head of the English Department, Professor Tremblay. She said you were expelled for plagiarism."

"WHAT?"

"Under those circumstances, you can see why we are retracting our offer."

"But I didn't--"

"Please don't make this harder than it is, Mia. You are certainly talented, but we can't take a chance on someone with your history."

"But--"

"You're dismissed, Mia."

"But I've come all this way! At least let me--"

"You and your family are free to enjoy your all-expense paid trip, but we will not be hiring you for our team at this time."

_What are those dopes doing?_

Flynn couldn't believe they'd sent her away! Something about a claim of plagiarism. _Her?_ When the girl left, looking so much more than crushed, Flynn slipped quietly from the room. If _they_ didn't want a girl with a spark that bright, he knew someone who would.

~~~

Mia came out of The American Adventure building with her head hanging, utterly dejected. Edward spotted her from his place at the fountain and hurried towards her.

"Mia, honey! What's the matter? What happened?"

With a choking sob, Mia crumpled in his arms. Her explanation came tumbling out of her mouth, muffled against his chest as she cried.

"WHAT?" her father raged. "That witch! I can't believe Disney would be so unprofessional to not even investigate it! I have half a mind to march in there and—"

Mia grabbed her father's arm as he attempted to walk past her. "Dad, no. Just don't. It won't do any good. They'll only kick us out and blacklist us forever."

Edward frowned as he gazed down at his daughter, a girl who'd very nearly achieved her greatest dreams, only for them to be snatched away from her and crushed underfoot like the dying embers of a fire. He thought he could see Mia's light going out, and there was nothing he feared more. Taking her by the shoulders, he gently set her down on the small wall that encircled the fountain.

"Mia, listen to me. This is not your fault. You understand that, right? You made it this far because you're so talented. That Professor Trembley, I don't know why, but for some reason she has it out for you, honey. And I promise Daddy is gonna sue the pants off that bitch for slandering you."

Mia blinked through tear-filled eyes. As a rule, her father never cursed. It was a testament to how incensed he was over the injustice inflicted upon her.

"I'll make this right, honey. So please don't get discouraged, okay?"

Mia sniffled and lowered her gaze, unable to speak in her distress. Her father took her chin in hand and tilted her face to look up at him.

"I need you to trust me, honey. Whatever you do, don't give up. Keep that light shining. People as talented as you don't go undiscovered for long."

"But it was already such a miracle to even get recognized by a company like Disney," she said glumly. "And lightning never strikes twice."

"That's a myth, Mia. Lightning _can_ strike twice. Given enough time, it's inevitable. Besides, if we can't get you in with Disney, we'll find someone else who wants you. Heck, I'm sure one day people will be practically fighting over who gets to have you. And it'll be up to you to decide which company you want to work for."

"That's if Mom doesn't force me to go to medical school first."

"You leave your mother to me. I'll get her to see things my way. She'll be like putty in my hands."

"Dad, ew."

"Is that a smile? Did I just see a smile?"

Mia rolled her eyes and turned her gaze away. Edward took a seat beside her and put an arm around her.

"Everything's going to be okay, Mia. I promise. It'll all work out. Promise me you won't give up."

Mia gazed into the kind eyes of her adoptive father and instantly felt reassured. There was so much warmth, hope, and unshaken confidence in those eyes. Looking into them, it was hard to be too discouraged.

"I promise," she said tremulously.

"That's my big girl," he said, caressing her cheek and wiping away her tears. "Now, what do you say we go have ourselves some fun?"

"Honestly, I'd rather just go home," she replied, hanging her head as more tears trailed down her cheeks.

"No," he said sternly.

Mia gazed at him in shock.

"You fall off a horse, you get right back on it, Mia. We are not going to let this ruin our day, our month, our year, and certainly not our lives. I promised you I'd make this right, so trust me. In the meantime, we're going to milk this expenses-paid trip for all it's worth. Do you understand?"

"You're ordering me to stay and have fun at Disney World?"

"Yes. You are going to stay and have fun at Disney World. That's a direct order from your father. Besides, this is supposed to be the happiest place on Earth."

"It doesn't feel very happy right now."

"That's because you're sitting in a puddle."

Mia leapt to her feet to check her bottom. By the time she discovered her father had fibbed about the puddle, he'd already linked his arm through hers and was pulling her along with him.

"If we hurry, we can at least get in all of Epcot and the Magic Kingdom," he said cheerfully.

Mia and her father did their best to put the disheartening events behind them as they journeyed arm in arm through Epcot, seeking adventure and never suspecting that they were about to find it.

As Mia walked with her father through the France section of The World Showcase, they passed a strange man sitting outside one of the establishments that served beer on tap. He wore a long, black coat, one which was certainly too warm for Floridian summers. Like a hawk homing in on its prey, the man's piercing blue eyes settled on Mia. An attractive young woman walking the park with an older man; certainly, there were a lot of those. But he recognized this girl as the one he'd been ordered to find. The man downed his beer in one draught, only to spit it out.

"They call this beer? I wouldn't put it in a mutt's dish!"

He pitched the glass, letting it smash upon the ground. Payment for the lackluster beverage was the last thing on his mind. He had far more important things to attend to as he pushed past the throng of humanity, shoving some roughly aside as he stalked his prey.

"She's the one. The lucky girl."

"Hey, so did you know that Epcot is an acronym?" said Edward, hitting his daughter with a bit of trivia. "It stands for—"

"Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow," Mia finished for him.

Edward gazed down at her in surprise.

"How did you...?"

"With as much of a Disney nut as you are, Dad, how could I not know these things?"

"It seems I've taught you well, my young padawan."

"I think you're just getting forgetful. Old age and all."

"Hey!"

Mia laughed and linked arms with him. As a first order of business, they stopped at the Patisserie so she could practice some her French.

"Bonjour!" she greeted the young man behind the counter. "Que recommanderais-tu?"

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," he said in reply. "Je recommande les eclairs ou le petit quatre."

"Merci beaucoup," she replied. "Je vais prendre un de chaque."

The young man bagged their pastries and rang them up at the register. "Tu es tres belle. As tu un petit ami?" he asked.

"Sorry," said Mia, blushing. "I'm afraid my French is a little limited. I'm really out of practice."

"Oh, nothing to worry about," the young man replied, looking rather embarrassed. He rewarded her with an extra pastry for her efforts.

"So, what did he say to you?" her father asked as they walked side by side, eating their pastries.

"Oh, I dunno," Mia mumbled, unable to look at him.

Edward lifted a skeptical eyebrow, looking very much like he didn't believe her. "He asked if you had a boyfriend, didn't he?"

Mia choked on her pastry. "How did you know that?"

"A father always knows. Perhaps I should go back in there and have a little talk with him."

"Oh my God, Dad. Seriously!" Mia grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "Don't embarrass me. Now where should we go next?"

"How about we head to The Imagination Pavilion and pay 'ol Figment a visit?"

"Sure," said Mia.

"You know, that ride used to be a whole lot cooler, back before you were born."

"Yes, Mr. Nostalgia," said Mia, who'd heard this line several times before. " _Everything_ was much cooler when you were young."

"Hey," said her father, elbowing her playfully. "I mean it. They didn't used to have that stuffy old British guy in it. They used to have this cool animatronic dude, The Dreamfinder. He was like this jolly, bearded steampunk guy who piloted a dirigible and collected dreams. He used to sing this cute little song and then Figment popped out of the back of his dream collecting machine. Man, it was so cool."

"I've never heard you talk to that way before," Mia laughed.

Edward grinned bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess this place just brings out the kid in me."

"Me, too," said Mia, linking arms with him again. "And thanks, Dad. You know, for everything."

As was typical in Walt Disney parks, the place was positively crowded. Even places that were no longer as popular as they once were still saw a herd of humanity passing through. But the man in the black coat was not to be stopped. As he pushed through the crowd, his jacket shifted and a second coat, red in color with a matching tunic, was exposed. A pimply faced teenager caught sight of him. Thinking he recognized a costumed cast member, he stepped in the man's path.

"Hey, Gaston! Wanna arm wrestle?"

The man seized the boy by his shirt and lifted him off the ground.

"Out of the way, you little..."

Mia and her father turned at the sound of a woman's scream. A formidable-looking man in a black coat held a teenage boy off the ground as the boy's mother begged the man to release her son.

Edward caught the eye of another gentleman who witnessed the scene. Something unspoken passed between the two good Samaritans, and both began to converge upon the man in the black coat.

"Dad, wait! Don't get involved," Mia begged, hurrying after him. "We should just call for security or something. The guy could be--" But already her father and the other gentleman had reached the dark, hulk of a man.

"Hey. Put the kid down, all right, big guy?" said Edward diplomatically. "Whatever he did to offend you, it's not worth it."

The he-man carefully scrutinized Edward, as though considering the wisdom of his words. However, the other gentleman made the mistake of placing a hand on the man's arm. The bulky stranger thrust an elbow, sending the well-intentioned gentleman staggering backwards and tumbling to the ground. Then, with hardly any effort, he pitched the boy aside. Unhurt but properly traumatized, the boy and his mother scurried away.

Edward hesitated. Perhaps he'd been foolhardy to confront this man. It seemed the best course of action was to back away humbly and wait for the proper authorities to handle this. However, he didn't get the chance. The hunter's eyes moved to Edward, sizing him up

"Well, now... Someone who wants to be a hero." His hawk-like gaze flicked to Mia and a lecherous grin spread across his face. "Might that be your daughter back there? Hmm?"

Fearing for Mia, Edward planted himself firmly in front of the man, blocking his path.

"Mia, run! Get help!"

"But Dad—"

"NOW!"

Mia bolted.

"NO!" A ham-sized fist sent Mia's valiant father careening to the concrete. The large man threw off his black coat and barreled through the crowd after Mia. "Come back here!"

Edward lay on the ground, feeling the warm trickle of blood from his nose. His vision was slowly dimming at the corners.

"P-Please... someone... my daughter... Help my..."

Several bystanders hurried to the aid of the unfortunate father as he fell unconscious, but Mia had no such help. She did not know the fate of her father, only that the crazed muscle-man he'd confronted was now chasing her. Disney security were on their walkie talkies, reporting the scene. Unfortunately, the amiable-looking fellows, who appeared to be in their 50s at the youngest, were nowhere near formidable enough to handle the bull of a man chasing her. This was a matter for Orlando Police. But could Mia outrun him long enough for them to get there? Mia searched the crowed for anyone who could help her, but the amused bystanders were pulling out their phones and taking video.

"This isn't a show!" she shouted. She glanced over her shoulder to see that the man had doffed his black coat. Beneath, he wore a familiar red jacket and tunic.

_Gaston?_

But why would one of the park actors chase her? Maybe he'd cracked; went crazy. Mia once heard a rumor that sometimes the park talent snapped under the pressure of their demanding jobs. Whatever the case, he was gaining on her and she was unable to move through the crowd as fast as she'd like. Mia rounded the corner of a nearby shop, only to trip and go sprawling. She twisted her ankle and landed awkwardly. Now, all she could do was watch helplessly as the man towered over her.

"Oh my God. P-Please don't hurt me," she begged.

The hunky actor dressed as the iconic Beauty & The Beast villain gazed down at her with a salacious grin. "Hurt you? I wouldn't dream of it. This is the day..."

He stopped midsentence, catching his reflection in the shop window and taking a moment to appraise himself.

_Dear God,_ thought Mia. _The guy's in full-on character._

Had he truly snapped or was he just foolish enough to think that assaulting children and chasing down young women were part of his job description?

"This is the day that our plans come to fruition," he continued, satisfied with what he'd seen in the window. "And those plans involve _you._ "

"D-Do you need help?" Mia ventured timidly. "I can get you help." She slowly rose to her feet, wincing as she did. At least it seemed he didn't intend to hurt her.

The man parted his red jacket and withdrew a very real-looking French Rapier which had previously been obscured by the black coat he'd discarded.

"You can help me by coming quietly. Either way, I _will_ be taking you with me. Make _no_ mistake about that."

Mia swallowed and slowly backed away. Her lips parted, but her intended cry for help only came out as a fearful squeak. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What did you do to my dad? Did you hurt him?"

The meaty fellow tilted his head back and laughed. "That fool you call _Dad_ thought he could stand up to me." He raised his free hand, clenching it into a fist. "So, I had to teach him a little lesson."

_Oh no! Dad!_

How badly was he hurt?

"If there's one lesson to be learned, it's this: _No one_ stands up to—"

He was interrupted midsentence by a high-pitched whizzing sound. An object which Mia at first took to be a Frisbee flew at him. The man deflected the object with his rapier, but the impact was enough to send him staggering backward. Mia had just enough time to catch sight of a disk with a glowing rim before it returned to the outstretched hand of another impossibly familiar figure, one whom she recognized from her father's deep Disney obsessions. He wore a form-fitting black bodysuit with luminescent highlights. One such glowing highlight adorned his chest in the form of four small squares shaping a T. His short hair was dark brown and his skin a strange pale shade of gray.

_Tron?_

Tron, or the man posing as Tron, seemed to have come to her rescue. Perhaps this was just some sort of immersive show after all.

_But his eyes,_ thought Mia. _They're actually glowing! How do they do that?_

"I suggest leaving the young lady alone."

Wide-eyed, Mia nodded. "Y-Yes. Agreed. Thank you." She hurried past Gaston, but he grabbed her knapsack and yanked her back to him.

"You won't get away so easily!"

If this was just meant to be an interactive show, they were being far too rough about it. Besides, she'd seen him knock a man to the ground and throw a teenage boy through the air. Surely that wasn't part of a show. The liability risk was way too high. This guy was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

While Gaston was distracted, Tron raced forward and leapt into the air, delivering a kick to his broad chest. Gaston released Mia and staggered backwards, raising his sword to attack.

"Just what do you think _you_ can do?" he demanded.

Now Mia was certain. That was a real sword. And on second glance, that disc _did_ look rather sharp. They were fighting with real weapons!

Tron held his disc at the ready and glanced at Mia before returning his gaze to his opponent.

"I fight... for the Utopia!"

_Got his line messed up,_ thought Mia. _What a strange slip-up._

It was so surreal to be thinking these thoughts whilst watching a battle between Tron and Gaston. She made another attempt at escape, but the direction she wished to take was blocked by the duelists as well as a crowd of people who stood by taking video of it with their phones. A man came to her side and took her by the arm.

"H-Hey!" she cried. "Let go!"

"Running's a good idea, but not that way," he said. "C'mon!"

The newcomer was a man in his late 20s with unkempt brown hair wearing a T-shirt with the retro 1980s _Journey Into Imagination_ logo. He pulled Mia in the opposite direction, leading her away from the Canada Pavilion and The World Showcase.

Gaston saw his target making a break for it. "SHE'S MINE!" he shouted. He drew a dagger from within his coat and threw it at Mia's would-be savior. A flying disc collided with the dagger, knocking it off its intended trajectory before returning to Tron's hand.

"FLYNN! GO!"

_Flynn?_

Why did that name sound familiar? Mia ran as best she could with her twisted ankle alongside the ruggedly handsome stranger. Her desire to get as far away from the madness behind her encouraged Mia to push through her pain and keep up with her rescuer. Somewhere behind them, Gaston, the villain of Beauty & The Beast, was doing battle with Tron, the titular hero of the live-action '80s film... with real weapons! What was even happening?

They followed the long path around the large World Showcase lagoon, drawing near the building that once housed her father's favorite attraction. Bright sunlight glinted off the pair of glass pyramids that made up the Imagination Pavilion.

"Just a little further and we'll be home free!"

"Who are you, exactly?" Mia asked, panting in cadence to their running.

He couldn't be park security. He wasn't wearing the right clothes.

"Are you an employee? What's going on?"

Flynn didn't seem interested in answering her questions, and the Imagination Pavilion reminded her of the unknown fate of her father.

"Wait!" she cried, digging her heels and tugging him back. "My dad! I need to go to him! He might need help!"

"Look, kiddo, I'm sure your dad will be all right. Park security's probably got to him by now. But if you go back there, you're runnin' the risk of slammin' right back into that walking chin back there. Right now, the best idea is to get as far away from that mess as possible. And I know just where to go."

His answer was not what she wanted to hear, but it pacified her for the moment. Park Security or someone would have gotten to her dad by now, and she had no aspirations of running into that crazed character actor again.

"Why did he snap like that? Do you know why he fixated on me?"

Flynn didn't reply as he led her inside the Imagination Pavilion where people milled around the gift shop or waited in line for the lackluster reincarnation of a classic attraction. Children played in the What-If Lab, all blissfully unaware that over in Canada, two Disney characters were in the heat of battle.

Flynn paused and took a moment to assess his surroundings. A sign reading, _Disney Vacation Club Member Lounge_ hung in front of a spiral staircase.

"It used to be so much easier to get to where we need to go," he muttered. "It was just up that staircase... till they blocked it off and stuck a lousy VIP lounge up there."

"Where are you taking me?" Mia huffed. "Can't we just call the police? Look, Mr. Flynn or whoever you are, I'm really freaking out right now."

Flynn led her through a door that said _Employees Only_ and they traveled down a back accessway. "I'm gonna tell you something," he said, "and this'll probably sound really wild, but just listen, okay? I was in the room when you had your little meeting earlier. Those guys don't know anything. You're like lightning in a bottle, man! I saw it!"

Mia had no idea what he was talking about.

"I wanted to talk to you, but, you picked up that side o' beef in France and it made it tricky to stop and shoot the shit."

It took her a moment to understand what he'd just said. This man had a way of speaking that sounded decades old. Flynn led Mia down corridor after corridor before taking a staircase. They were in an area that was most certainly not open to the public.

"As for the police, they won't be able to do much about him. By the time they get here, He-Man will be history, probably recalled by his Mistress of the Night. The best thing we can do right now is just let it be." He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her. "It's amazing how productive doing nothing can be."

"Nothing you just said makes any sense."

Flynn laughed. "Life has a way of moving you past things like 'sense.' Look, I didn't realize you were gonna be tracked by the dark side's ace hunter today, but that only goes to tell me that there _must_ be a reason they want you. It's probably that wild spark, man. Ain't seen one so bright in such a long time. The baddie bads are probably threatened by a spark so bright. Knowing the kind of attention you're gonna attract, there's only one person who can help you."

"Are you ever going to tell me what you're talking about?"

As he led her deeper within the building, the décor began to resemble an abandoned futuristic attraction that hadn't seen the light of day in at least two decades. After cutting through a storage area, Mia followed Flynn into a large room with multicolored computer consoles, all of them gutted. Above was a sign which said, _Magic Palette._ A wall display showed what looked to have once been giant kaleidoscopes. Yet another exhibit read, _Dreamfinder's School of Drama._ In another room at the far corner was a row of uncolored stucco images of a jolly bearded man riding a dirigible.

"Here we are. The old Imageworks."

Mia gazed about her in wonder. This must be where the old ride used to be, the one her father had reminisced about. There on the wall was the Dreamfinder guy and with him the iconic Figment.

"My dad remembers all this from when he was young," she said. "What happened to it?"

"Money happened... or rather a _lack_ of money. Sponsor and funding issues led to the park completely changing the ride and closing this little _Playground of the future_ in favor of that poor excuse of a replacement downstairs. Problem is, it's so uninspired. It lacks any realimagination, man. So, this place is closed and the ride's a mess. Worst part about it is they completely lost sight of the man at the heart of this whole wonderful thing."

"That's a shame," said Mia. "My dad has such nostalgia for it. It seems like a lot of people do. I mean, I always liked Figment, but I was only a year old when they closed the original ride, so I can't say I ever experienced it for myself."

She stood alongside Flynn staring at the uncolored image of the man called _The Dreamfinder_ riding his dirigible. She gazed upon the jolly man's visage for a long time before pulling her eyes away and looking around the abandoned area.

"So how long do we have to wait before it's safe to go back out? If my dad _is_ okay, he's gotta be worried sick about me right now."

Flynn shook his head as he reached into his jacket pocket. "We're not going back. There could be more baddies out there lookin' for you. I know someone who can help you. And we're gonna go pay him a visit."

He approached another old artifact, something that resembled a metallic archway. On the wall above it was an unlit neon sign that said _Sensor_. A curving path in the floor indicated that something, perhaps a walkway of sorts, once stood in this spot, but now only the gutted archway entrance remained.

"But why?" Mia asked, following him to the skeleton of what may once have been a tunnel. "You still haven't explained anything!"

She watched him take out his smart phone. However, the design on the back didn't look like any brand logo _she'd_ ever seen.

"Look," she said, "I'm grateful to you for everything you've done, but I still don't know who the heck you are. Are you even an employee here? Why are people after me?"

"You're right, kiddo. I haven't really explained much of anything, have I? Truth be told, I do kinda work here, but I wouldn't call myself a Cast Member or anything. Imagineer is a better word for what I do. But my job involves a little bit more than just building animatronics for rides." He pressed an icon on his smart phone, one which looked similar to Tron's disc weapon. "Talk to me, T. What's the situation?"

Tron, or whatever his real name was, replied. "The enemy has fled. A green flame gateway appeared. He might have returned home, but hard to say. Could still be in the park somewhere."

"Ya done good, man. I'm recalling you now."

He pressed the icon a second time. Luminescent pixels appeared on the back of Flynn's jacket like digital data and materialized into the disc weapon. When the disc fully solidified, a strip down the front of Flynn's jacket lit up, glowing brightly.

"Not bad for a first real field test," he said.

Mia leapt back from him, letting out a cry of surprise. "H-How did you do that? What the _hell_ is going on?"

"Hey, take it easy," he said. "If you can't handle an I.D. Disc materializing onto my back, then what happens next will _really_ fry your circuits."

He returned to the archway. At the top, there were spaces where letters had once been attached to the metal, like phantom writing from the past, faded with time. Mia could just make out the words _Rainbow Corridor_. Flynn lifted his phone, activating another mysterious application. The same pink swirly symbol from his shirt appeared on the screen. He traced a little circle over it with his finger and it began to spin and run through a cycle of different colors. The _Sensor_ sign above them lit up with a buzz, glowing as brightly as though it were still new.

"Dig this, man."

The archway burst to life and a tunnel of swirling light and colors stretched forward into space.

"The Rainbow Corridor never gets old."

Mia gasped, and despite her apprehension and better judgement, she moved tentatively towards it. "Consider my circuits fried," she said.

She stopped just outside the archway, gazing into the tunnel of pure rainbow light that seemed to go on forever. How was that possible? The room wasn't even big enough to accommodate it! She stepped around the side of the archway.

"Woah! There's nothing there!"

Even looking through the archway from behind, all she saw was Flynn standing on the other side, but when she came back to stand beside him, she was once more gazing into a swirling wormhole of light.

"How is that possible?"

Flynn shrugged, smiling. "It's like the man said. _With_ _one little spark._ " He tapped a finger to his head and slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket.

Those words seemed only vaguely familiar, as though she'd heard them before, but only in the deep nebulous recesses of her mind.

From his hip, Flynn unsheathed a white baton with glowing lights. "Let's go."

Mia's eyes widened. She held up her hands and backed away slowly, shaking her head. "Yeah, what? I don't think so," she said with a nervous little laugh. "Look, I appreciate all your help, but this is just too much. I don't think I should be seeing any of this. I'm not going through some mysterious magical portal to God knows where with some strange man I've never met before, even if you are kinda cute."

Flynn lifted his eyebrows . "Cute?"

"Go on back to the Twilight Zone or the Grid or wherever you hail from, Tron man. I'm getting out of here."

"Hey, girl. Wait a sec—"

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced towards the _Dreamfinder's School of Drama._ A flickering green flame hovered there, one which was swiftly growing into a much larger, more menacing trans-dimensional rift.

"Actually, you might wanna rethink that!"

Mia turned and came face to face with yet another dimensional portal, this one made of toxic green flames and much less inviting than the Rainbow Corridor. Armored goblin-like creatures leapt out of it, armed to the teeth with a variety of medieval weaponry. Mia screamed and practically leapt into Flynn's arms.

"Ahh! What the hell are those things?"

"Goons! And a very good reason to get the hell outta here!" Flynn turned to the Rainbow Corridor, putting Mia on his back. "Hang on to me!"

Mia wrapped her arms around Flynn's neck, clinging to him piggy-back style, as the creatures began pouring into the room. Flynn activated a trigger on his white baton. Suddenly, the pair were dragged forward and a sleek white vehicle materialized instantly beneath them. A light cycle, just like in the Tron movies!

As the roof of the light cycle formed above them, Mia was pressed rather intimately against Flynn. She'd never been this close to a man who wasn't her father before. It was almost scandalous. But as she heard the clamoring of the hellish creatures behind them, she lost all sense of propriety and clung to him all the tighter.

"Time to go!"

Flynn hit the accelerator and the light cycle plunged forward, sending them into the spiraling tunnel of rainbow light which swirled around them. Mia buried her face against Flynn's neck. She couldn't watch. It made her dizzy.

_Oh please, oh please... Let this be over. This is all just a dream. A seriously messed-up dream._

Flynn smiled to himself as Mia tightened her grip. A pretty young lady holding tight to him? Not a bad position to be in, really. Though it'd be a lot better if they weren't hauling ass to save their own lives. Under better circumstances, riding his light cycle with a girl would be a pretty great way to spend a day.

The vortex of colors swirled faster and faster the further they went and Flynn was forced to close his eyes. Then, quite suddenly, they were through. The light cycle went skidding into a pristine laboratory, sliding across the white tile floor and knocking papers off desks and sending men and women screaming and scurrying out of its path. Finally, it skidded to a halt and the Rainbow Corridor snapped shut behind them. The hatch-cover of the vehicle slid back, opening it up to the air.

"Woo! Pretty good driving, huh?"

Mia's arms remained tightly around him with no intention of letting go. She was shaking like a leaf. "I n-never wanna do that again," she chattered through her teeth.

Flynn glanced back at her with a handsome, roguish grin. "Aw, come on. I got us through unscathed. And best of all, we're out of trouble."

"FLYNN! YOU'RE IN SERIOUS TROUBLE!"

He winced and pressed a button on the steering console. The light cycle dematerialized and resumed the form of a white baton. Flynn stood up quickly to receive the man who'd yelled at him, sending Mia tumbling off his back.

The man who strode towards them wore a long white lab coat over a gray suit and tie. He was an older man, perhaps in his 50s, with short, receding curly hair and a rather prominent nose.

"Just what were you thinking, recklessly speeding into the lab on that flashy motorbike of yours?" he asked with an accent that, to Mia, sounded British. "You could have gotten someone killed! Or worse!"

Flynn quirked an eyebrow. "Worse?"

"You could have damaged some irreplaceable equipment!"

"Right... _That's_ worse."

Mia took a moment to assess their current surroundings. As best she could figure, this was some sort of laboratory. Men and women in white coats bustled about and substances in glass beakers bubbled over Bunsen burners. She glanced behind her. The Rainbow Corridor had disappeared. Had she only imagined it? But no, how else could she be in some strange laboratory when moments ago they'd been in an abandoned section of the Imagination Pavilion in Epcot? All evidence pointed to a dimensional portal, but Mia's more practical mind and her understanding of reality versus fantasy begged her to consider some other alternative. Besides, no one here exactly looked otherworldly, although some of the objects with which they were experimenting seemed questionable.

"I've had it with you as of late, Flynn! You spend too much time on the other side." The man was pointing toward the Rainbow Corridor's deactivated archway. "Coming and going at all hours as you please without telling a soul! And when you deem it necessary to _actually_ be here, you're either riding around on your silly motorbike—"

"It's a light cycle."

"... or you're hiding in your development lab wasting time with those silly games of yours."

"You mean The Grid."

"It's bollocks, Flynn! You haven't done anything productive around here!"

"I developed the Tron program!"

"Which has never even been needed, let alone field tested!"

Flynn opened his mouth to protest, but the older man continued to talk over him.

"You've done nothing lately! How you're an Imagineer, I can't even fathom. Your imagination, Flynn, is rubbish!"

Flynn blinked, seemingly at a loss for words until he finally managed to sputter something out. "Yeah, well... that's just, like, your opinion, man."

Mia's wandering eyes returned to Flynn and the scientist, captivated by their argument, particularly the words and phrases that were used. _Other side. The Grid. The Tron program. Imagination._ As interesting as it all was, they were getting nowhere and Mia still didn't know where she was or who any of these people were. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Um, hello? Yeah, hi. Sorry to interrupt. I'd just like to remind you that I'm still here. You know, the girl you abducted and took down the psychedelic rabbit hole. Just wondering where I am and how I might get back to reality."

People gasped at her use of the words _rabbit hole_ as though she'd said some sort of swear word. Even the haughty British scientist went wide-eyed, as though truly seeing her for the first time.

"Who is THIS?Who have you brought in here?"

Flynn's eyes went wide as though he suddenly remembered Mia's presence. "HER! I'll tell you, Dr. Hoity-Toity Channing, what I've done lately. I rescued this girl!"

" _Rescued?_ She just said you abducted her!"

Flynn shook his head and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Abducted— I saved her life! She was being chased by Maleficent's hunter, Gaston, and a gaggle of Goons! I saved her life, man!"

The room fell eerily silent. Dr. Channing had gone pale and began to stammer. "Mal-Mal-Mal-"

Flynn rolled his eyes. "We don't have time for this. Where's Mercurial?"

"Wait... _Maleficent_?" said Mia. "As in the scary horned witch lady from Sleeping Beauty? Yeah, I'm _definitely_ sure I'd like a ticket back to the real world, please."

"On the contrary," said a voice from the doorway of the experimental lab. "She's not a witch. If you want to be completely factual, Maleficent is a fairy. A fairy of darkness, but a fairy nonetheless."

In walked a tall, full-bodied gentleman with bright eyes and a bushy auburn beard. His attire featured a long, blue coat with black lapel collar, matching pants, and a red vest over a white shirt. A black top hat and a pair of goggles rested upon his head. His hands were adorned with a pair of white magician's gloves. The man had an almost Steampunk Santa Claus look about him. His appearance was strikingly familiar. It was like looking at a legend from her father's nostalgic ramblings.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mia. "You're that... that Dreamfinder guy."

"Professor Mercurial. Thank heavens!" said Dr. Channing, relieved. "Perhaps you can help us sort this out."

The man they addressed as _Professor Mercurial_ looked as though he were on the verge of tears. Whatever could cause an otherwise jolly Santa Claus-like man to wear such an expression?

"Is it really you?" he asked, drawing near. "My sweet... sweet Miandra... Has my greatest dream finally found her way home?"

His words floored her. He knew her name. And not just the name she went by, but her full first name, a name very few people actually knew. Miandra. And _his_ Miandra, no less. Whatever did he mean?

_Greatest dream? Home?_

Mia swallowed nervously and took a step back from him, sidling close to Flynn. "Wh-What is he talking about?" she asked, but her eyes would not leave the man standing before her.

Flynn shook his head. For the first time ever, he was truly at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry," said Mia, "But how is it you know my name?"

The man smiled so widely that his eyes crinkled at the corners and tears spilled from them. They went rolling down his rosy cheeks. He lowered the hat from his head and held it to his heart.

"Well, of course I would know your name better than anyone else. After all, I gave it to you."

Releasing Flynn's arm, Mia carefully approached the man who claimed to have gifted her with her name. A sort of magnetism drew her to this peculiar man who radiated such warmth and yet such sorrow. She stopped within a couple feet of him, tilting her head and furrowing her brow as she carefully studied every detail of his person. The claim he'd made, what he was insinuating – surely it was impossible.

He gazed down at her with tenderness in his hazel eyes. Looking into them seemed to trigger a long-lost memory in the deep recesses of Mia's mind, one which was hazy with years. She saw a blurred vision of this same man, only with a thinner face and well-groomed goatee, gazing down at her in a very similar manner; and then, a short, chubby baby arm, an arm she instinctively knew to be hers, reaching up to grab his nose.

Mia lifted a trembling hand to his face, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. Gasping, she withdrew her hand and took a step back.

The Dreamfinder smiled.

"Yes, Miandra," he said softly, his cheeks damp with tears. "It's me."

Mia swayed on her feet. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeff Bridges played Kevin Flynn both in the original Tron movie from the '80s, and an older Kevin Flynn in Tron Legacy in 2010. The version of Kevin Flynn in this fanfiction is the younger version (think original movie). But I love Jeff Bridges, and as such, you may sometimes see me throw in some references to other non Tron-related characters he's played. For example, I just had to throw in a line from his most famous role as "The Dude" from The Big Lebowski: "Yeah, well... that's just, like, your opinion, man."


	5. Welcome to Dizgaia

In time, the prickling of consciousness began to touch Mia's mind. She heard humming and felt the warmth of a damp compress against her head. She struggled against the darkness.

"Dad?" she murmured. "I just had the craziest dream..."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, but it was not the kind, gentle, fatherly face of Edward Baxter gazing down at her. It was, instead, a pair of big yellow eyes set in a purple, crocodilian face. The creature greeted her with a small wave.

"Hi!"

Mia screamed and tumbled off the chaise lounge, hitting the floor with a thud. The tiny dragon responded in kind.

"AAAHHH!"

He went spiraling backwards and collided with a bookshelf, knocking several works of literature to the floor before tumbling to the ground and toppling over a wastebasket, which somehow managed to bounce upwards and land atop his head.

"Hey! Who turned out the lights?"

Mia rose to her feet and hesitantly approached the wastepaper basket. The creature had such a silly, childlike voice. Perhaps it was harmless. Nevertheless, it was with a trembling hand that she lifted the basket off his head. She gazed down upon the small dragon for but moment. It gazed up at her with its wide yellow eyes and a playful smile.

"Oh! Hello again!"

With another scream, Mia tossed the basket aside and ran from the room. The small, purple reptile let out a cry of its own and grabbed one of the fallen books and covered his head with it. Mia ran from the strange room with the vaulted ceiling and early 1900s architecture and into a corridor of a very modern-looking building, the very same, in fact, that she'd arrived in via a light cycle. At the sound of her cries, someone had come running, and as Mia turned a corner she collided with him.

"Oof! Miandra, dear! Is everything all right? What has you spooked?" It was the Dreamfinder, and in her haste, she'd knocked him to the floor.

Mia didn't waste time with apologies. Instead, she quickly pulled him to his feet. "M-Monster! S-Small, cute, purple monster!" She blinked, realizing what she'd just said and exactly what it was she'd seen. "Um... I may have been a bit hasty," she admitted.

"Oh!" said the Dreamfinder, letting out a jovial laugh. "Why, that was only Figment, dear."

Gently, he took Mia by the arm and led her out of the white, sterile hallway and back into the rustic room from which she'd emerged. "Oh, Figment, come on out," he called.

From beneath a thick, leather-bound tome, a small voice replied, "Is it safe to come out?"

"Of course! Everything is fine now."

Figment removed the book from his head and his tiny wings lifted him into the air. "Oh, goodie! I was worried I was gonna be screamed at again."

He fluttered towards them, yellow-eyed and grinning. His busy wings, sharp beaklike snout, and constant chattering still caused Mia something of a fright, and she clutched the Dreamfinder's arm tighter.

As the creature drew closer, she called out, "Sit!"

The small dragon immediately sat at her feet, looking confused and a little anxious. Blair brought a hand to his face, stroking his beard anxiously as he glanced between Figment and his long-lost daughter. A memory from long ago popped suddenly into his head.

_I'm not sure I like the idea of Miandra having a pet dragon._

_Oh, but he's not a pet, dear heart. He's so much more than that._

The irony tugged at the corner of his mouth and pulled at his heart strings.

Mia held up her hand. "Stay."

Figment blinked up at her with his wide, yellow eyes. Swallowing nervously, she squatted down in front of him. It took every ounce of Figment's meager restraint to keep from wiggling or chattering as she appraised him. Blair was pleased to see Figment responding so well to Miandra. It seemed she simply needed a moment to really take him in.

Mia chewed her lip in contemplation. Then, she smiled. "I know you," she said. "I have a stuffed toy of you."

Tentatively, she reached out and touched his wings. They fluttered against her fingers and he let out a childish giggle. She sang softly.

"Two tiny wings... Eyes big and yellow..." She trailed a finger along one of his orange horns. "Horns of a steer... but a lovable fellow..."

The Dreamfinder knelt down beside her. "From head to tail, he's royal purple pigment..." He motioned a gloved hand towards the small dragon. "And there, voila! You've got a Figment!"

Figment clapped his hands together and giggled. "Wow, wow, wow! You both sing great together!"

He was right. It was almost as though their voices were made to harmonize. Mia cupped her hands to her mouth as she gazed, teary-eyed, at the Dreamfinder. "This isn't just a dream, is it?" she asked, her voice muffled behind her hands as the tears fell freely down her cheeks. "Are you really my father?"

The Dreamfinder, known to his friends as Blair Mercurial, or simply Professor Mercurial, offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. He wore the warmest of smiles, but he, too, had tears in his eyes. "The only dream here, my dearest Miandra, is a dream come true," he said, placing a gloved hand against her cheek. "My dream that one day I'd have my only daughter back. I knew it was you the moment I laid eyes on you. Not only are you as beautiful as Beverly, but your spark... Oh, what a spark!" His tears fell, disappearing into his bushy beard. "You are a Dreamfinder's daughter beyond a shadow of a doubt."

It was hard to believe, but all evidence seemed to point to it. If some strange man from an alternate dimension who claimed to be her father knew her name as well as her mother's, and if he could cry in such a fashion, then it had to be true. But how?

"Mom never talked about you. All she told me was..." Mia shifted uncomfortably. "Well, she told me you'd died."

"Never spoke of me? Died?" He lowered his gaze, unable to hide his anguish. "Oh, Beverly..."

"I mean, I think it was because it really hurt her to think about you," Mia explained, hoping to mitigate his pain at least a little. "My dad always said it made her sad. Uh, my stepdad, that is." Granted, Edward had legally adopted her, but she felt perhaps now was not the time to reveal this.

"I... I see."

Her stepfather. So, it seemed Beverly had found someone else to share her heart with in that dark world on the other side. It was just as well. Blair had hoped that a good man could take in his beloved wife and dearest daughter and protect them from the harsh realities of that place. He just didn't expect the news to hurt so much, but he had been a fool to expect otherwise.

Mia recalled the many times throughout her childhood that she had asked her mother about her biological father, and how disappointed she was when her mother refused to tell her anything. She'd never felt abandoned, though. She supposed that was the upside to her mother telling her that her father had died. For Mia, that meant he hadn't intended to leave them but couldn't help it. She hadn't a clue that her mother was the one who'd done the abandoning of this poor man. Mia wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I don't even know where I am, or how any of this is possible," she said.

Blair did his best to gather himself and swallow his pain. Placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder, he said, "It's time you learn the truth of it all, Miandra. The truth of who you really are... and where you really come from."

"I'm a little scared to hear it," she admitted.

"I believe we both are. We have so much to share with one another. Perhaps a walk around the campus is in order. I can show you around and explain things fully while we stretch our legs. That is, if your ankle is feeling all right. Flynn said you'd twisted it."

Her ankle! Mia had almost forgotten about her injury. "Actually, it doesn't hurt a bit," she said wonderingly.

"Ah. Good," said The Dreamfinder with a smile. "I had a Baymax unit examine you while you were unconscious. It seems he was able to alleviate your pain after all."

Mia closed her eyes and shook her head as though trying to clear out cobwebs. "I'm sorry... A WHAT unit?"

The Dreamfinder knocked a hand against his forehead. "Oh dear. Here I am babbling on about things you don't know about as if they're commonplace. I truly _do_ have _much_ to explain."

"Um... it's not that, exactly," said Mia with a nervous laugh.

The Dreamfinder beckoned to her with a gloved hand. "Come, come. Let's walk and talk. I'll see if I can do my best to explain everything."

As Mia followed him, a timid voice spoke up.

"Can I come, too?" Figment still sat where she'd told him, gazing up at them with his large eyes and looking very much like a scolded puppy.

Mia tried not to laugh. She'd almost forgotten about him. She smiled at him and jerked her head, beckoningly. Grinning once more, Figment fluttered after them.

"Sorry I screamed at you," she said. "It's just that... Well, creatures like you don't exist where I'm from. Er, that is, where I was raised for most of my life. You just startled me is all. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"They don't have dragons on the other side?" he asked, incredulous. "Doesn't anyone over there imagine anymore?"

"Now, now, Figment," said The Dreamfinder. "Let's not be too hasty to judge the people of Earth. Of course, they have imaginations there. The only difference is people over there don't quite grasp how to fully utilize their potential. Not to mention there are differences in the physiological makeup of the two worlds themselves, which makes it harder to do the things there that we can do here."

It was so strange hearing The Dreamfinder speak of Earth as though it were another place entirely. It just further cemented the fact that Mia had left her world and entered another.

The Dreamfinder led Mia down the pristine corridor. The entrance to his office was made up of an old wooden door with a simple nameplate attached; however, along the hallway there were several more modern doors. The word _futuristic_ came to Mia's mind. They reminded her of doors one might see on a spaceship in a sci-fi movie, sliding up and down or left to right when opened and closed. These led to the work spaces of the Imagineers, many of which were open, allowing Mia a glimpse inside.

In one, she watched a man turn into a dog and back again, while a scientist nodded and jotted notes on a clipboard. She paused in front of another open laboratory, mesmerized by blobs of green goo bouncing off the floor and walls. One blob came hurtling towards her. Mia gasped, but the man inside slammed his palm against a button on the wall and the door closed just in time. Mia heard the blob thump against the inside of the door. Shaking her head, she hurried to catch up with the Dreamfinder.

"I'm positive that you have many questions," he said. "The first of which is very obvious: Where are we? Am I right?"

"Y-Yeah. I'd say that'd be the best place to start. Flynn wasn't exactly... articulate... when it came to explaining anything."

Blair chuckled. "Yes. Well, sometimes the most brilliant of people are unable to properly put their thoughts into words."

Speaking of Flynn, as they turned down another corridor, they passed by a door whose nameplate said _Kevin Flynn, Imagineer_ witha holographic image of his face to accompany it. Mia heard a stereo playing a familiar song from behind the door. This, however, was not their destination.

Mia followed The Dreamfinder past a large, open lab which she recognized as the one in which she'd arrived with Flynn via the Rainbow Corridor. _ImageWorks,_ the sign above the lab read.Behind the glass doors and thick, shatterproof windows, she saw several people bustling about, but she didn't have a chance to figure out what it was they were working on. She scurried after The Dreamfinder, not wanting to get lost in this bizarre place.

"The first thing you must understand, Miandra, is that Earth is not the only world there is. And I'm not just speaking of other planets within your galaxy - I believe you call it the Milky Way? More specifically, there are parallel dimensions that coincide with the one in which Earth resides. This world rests within one such dimension. We call this world Dizgaia."

"So, I really _am_ in another dimension," she mused. "I suppose there's still a part of me that's trying to find a more... well, realistic explanation. Aside from Figment, everything I've seen so far seems sorta... normal. I mean, okay, sure, I've seen some strange, hard-to-explain stuff, like that bouncing goo and the man turning into a dog, but is that really proof that I'm in another dimension? Plus, I just heard Journey's _Separate Ways_ playing from Flynn's room. That's a song that exists on Earth."

"Ah, yes," said The Dreamfinder. "There is a reason for that. You see, Flynn spends much time on Earth and has really taken to their culture, particularly from the time you call _the '80s_. It's part of the special assignment I gave him."

"I... see." Despite her words, Mia wasn't really sure she understood, but she had a feeling all would be explained in time. She tried to be patient, though she was positively bursting with questions.

"Dizgaia is a world far older than Earth," Blair explained. "How old is not entirely known, but for a very long time we've been observing Earth, watching it develop and grow into the world you know today. We've seen how dismal and dreary life on Earth can be. We've seen how its people suffer one calamity after another - world wars, economic depressions, natural disasters - which is why, a long time ago, we began an initiative to invite Earth to join with Dizgaia in fellowship and unity, to build a utopia together."

The hallway ended and The Dreamfinder made a quick left, leading Mia to an escalator which spiraled upwards like a staircase in a lighthouse.

"We, the Imagineers of Dizgaia, as well as many others, have taken steps to accomplish this dream. And it all starts... with one little spark of inspiration."

"M-Merge the two worlds together?" Mia asked as she scrambled up the escalator after him. "I'm not sure Earth is ready for something like that. Hell, I'm not sureI'm ready to be hearing any of this. It's pretty hard to believe."

"Unfortunately, we came to realize that fact ourselves. But that didn't mean we couldn't try. That's why we endeavored to gradually prepare and familiarize Earth with the concepts of our world. Thus, we sought out people who possessed a bright spark or the light of imagination, creativity, and inspiration."

The spiraling escalator seemed to go on forever, and Mia had to hyper-focus on the Dreamfinder's face to keep from getting nauseous.

"We recruited these people to act as ambassadors between our two worlds. We shared with them the grand tales of Dizgaia so that they in turn could share them with the people of Earth in order to pave the way for the two worlds to become one; to prepare Earth to join our utopia. You may even recognize some of these ambassadors."

Then, he began rattling off their names as though they were old friends.

"Hans Christian Andersen, The Brothers Grimm, Jules Verne, Lewis Carroll, and James Barrie, just to name a few, were all people we tapped to share the tales of Dizgaia."

Mia gaped at him. "Jules Verne? James Barrie? Seriously? They traveled between the two worlds?"

"Indeed. They did their tasks, sharing our stories - as they interpreted them - with the people of Earth. But only to varying degrees of success. It may interest you to know the most recent and most successful ambassador with whom we formed a partnership, the man who was closest to achieving our goals, was a man named Walter Elias Disney."

"Considering what I've seen today, that makes a lot of sense."

"Mr. Disney's spark was wonderful. One of the brightest I'd seen from a man of Earth. And he had the advantage of already knowing all of our stories, or at least the versions our previous ambassadors crafted. His ideas for the future seemed to match ours quite well. And so, he spearheaded the project of bringing Dizgaia and Earth together. As you will soon see, he truly did get further than his predecessors."

The top of the escalator let out onto a large atrium beneath a glass pyramid which seemed somehow familiar. The space served as a lounge of sorts with small tables and cushy chairs where employees of the Imagination Institute took their coffee breaks. In fact, the atrium rather reminded Mia of a brightly lit café. But it was the sight beyond the glass which caught Mia's eyes.

"Wait a minute. We're still in Epcot," she said gazing confusedly at the familiar geodesic sphere which housed the Spaceship Earth attraction.

"Why don't you take a closer look, Miandra?" the Dreamfinder suggested with a knowing chuckle.

Slowly, Mia approached the glass and gasped at what she saw. Beyond was a futuristic metropolis with a far more advanced and comprehensive monorail system than Disney's Epcot could boast. And although there were similarities between this city and the layout of Disney World's Epcot, there were no parking lots in the distance, no sea of cars glinting in the Floridian sunlight or busy highways beyond. Instead, lush forests and mountains served as a backdrop to the city, and in the distance, a castle.

There wasn't a castle In Disney's Epcot. Only in the Magic Kingdom. But here was a castle, and it certainly didn't look like a blown-up children's toy like the one that could be found in Disney World, but a real honest-to-goodness castle. It was three, no four, maybe even five times the size of Cinderella's Castle in the Magic Kingdom, and far more fortified and imposing. This was no theme park. This was an actual city in some foreign, unknown country on a world very different from her own.

"Welcome to Dizgaia, Miandra. And welcome home."


	6. The 10 Kingdoms

"When I saw the geodesic sphere, I thought maybe..." Mia trailed off and shook her head.

"You thought perhaps this was all just some elaborate hoax," Blair finished for her.

"I suppose there's still a small part of me that's clinging to the idea that this is all just some prank or immersive experience, some new Disney advertising gimmick. But it's all real." She placed a hand against the glass and gazed out in awe at the magnificent world that lay before her. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," she murmured.

"Who's Toto?" asked Figment, fluttering at her shoulder.

"Dorothy's dog in _The_ _Wizard of Oz_ , a story by Frank L. Baum. I don't suppose you're going to tell me that Emerald City exists somewhere on this world?"

"Not that I've seen," said The Dreamfinder, "And I've traveled over most of this world. Though, there _is_ Wonderland..."

"That place is full of the heebiest of heebies and the jeebiest of jeebies!" said Figment with a shiver.

"Yeah," said Mia, still gazing out through the glass. "That story used to frighten me as a child. I always thought Lewis Carroll was on some serious..." She glanced between Figment and Dreamfinder and quickly checked herself. "Uh... under some sort of chemical influence. But to think a place like that really exists..." She returned her gaze to the window, now pressing both hands against the glass. "What else is there?" she asked. "Neverland?"

Smiling, Blair placed a hand on her shoulder as they both gazed out at the world beyond. "Neverland is indeed a real place. Perhaps the smallest of the 10 Kingdoms. Remind me when we return to my office to show you my maps." He pointed into the distance. "That castle is the focal point of the kingdom in which we now stand, Cerenopia, or "Land of Serenity" in ancient Dizgaian. It is the largest of the 10 Kingdoms, and this city, Epcot, is merely a small part of it. It's quite the impressive range when you think about it. From Neverland to Cerenopia, all the 10 Kingdoms work together to make up the utopia we seek to maintain."

Despite this brief but enlightening run-down of the world he provided her, all Mia seemed to hear was _Neverland._ Suddenly, she took Blair's hand in hers and began tugging him back towards the escalator.

"Let's go! Right now! Let's take a boat, plane, magic carpet, flying horse, I don't care what! Let's go to Neverland!"

Eyes wide, Blair clapped a hand to his top hat as his adult daughter pulled him towards the escalator with all the exuberance of a little girl; the little girl he'd never gotten to know and whom, had things gone differently, he would have loved to bring along on all his magic journeys. However, he had to put his foot down before she did something rash.

"Hold on now, dear! There's something you really must know before we just go gallivanting off!"

Mia slowed and gazed up at him with all the patience of a five-year-old.

"To you, this may seem like a kind of fantasy world, but in fact it is just as real as the one you've been living in. Everything on this world existed long before the stories were shared with the people of Earth. The ambassadors were inspired by what they saw here and wrote their own interpretations to share back home. In essence, the stories as you may have heard them are not necessarily reflective of events as they happened here. Still, you'll find that many things from those stories are quite real, and not just the fun things. The dangers are _also_ just as real. So, you can see why it would be negligent of me to allow you to take off with such reckless abandon."

Mia frowned, disappointed.

"Now, now. Don't look so downtrodden. You just need a proper orientation before taking off on some grand adventure. Your safety is of the utmost importance, especially after what happened in Disney World today. Come. Let's return to my office and I'll give you a bit of a history and geography lesson."

Mia followed him back to the lower level. As they rounded a corner, she saw a most peculiar sight heading down the hallway in the opposite direction - a penguin wearing a bow tie and carrying a briefcase. Jaw agape, Mia tugged on Blair's sleeve.

"Hmm? What is it, dear?"

All Mia could do was point and flap her lips soundlessly.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Jeffrey!" said Blair, lifting his hat in greeting.

"Afternoon, Professor!" replied the chipper penguin, offering him a quick salute.

Mia watched as he waddled past them and turned a corner out of sight. "It spoke!" she squeaked.

The Dreamfinder chuckled. "Of course, Miandra. In time, you won't find someone like Jeffrey quite so jarring. In fact, I have met with King Simba of the Kingdom of Inafria on more than one occasion. While he might look quite the fright at first, he's actually very kind; a noble leader and magnificent guardian of his people."

"S-Simba? As in The Lion King? He exists here, too? Can we, like, communicate with him? Can he speak human language? Is he like a lion-lion or a bipedal anthropomorphic lion?"

Blair was quite pleased to hear his daughter use a word like _anthropomorphic._ It showed that despite living a very non-magical life in the 'reality' that was Earth, she was already well versed in a multitude of fascinating concepts. Her spark indeed burned brightly. And thus far, her familiarity with the ambassadors and her knowledge of such literature spoke of a well-read young woman.

"My dear, Miandra, you are quite astute, and very eager! I believe here in Dizgaia your imagination will flourish! Yes, King Simba walks as upright as you and I. And while they may have their own language, the people of Inafrai can mostly speak the common tongue as well."

"That's amazing! And what is Inafria?"

He opened the door to his office and led her inside. "As for Inafria, itself..." He went to the far wall and pulled down a rolled-up map like the sort one might find in a social studies classroom. "Inafria is but one of the 10 Allied Kingdoms. As I mentioned before, Cerenopia is another." He pulled down a second map, this one of Cerenopia. "And each kingdom has their own rulers and guardians."

Mia sat wide-eyed on the edge of the chaise lounge. "Tell me more about the 10 Kingdoms," she said with all the excitement and command of a little girl eager to hear a favorite story. "And who are the leaders and guardians?"

Blair matched her excitement with his own as he hurried about the room, pulling down more maps that lined the back of his office. He was more than happy to share with his long-lost daughter the knowledge of the world from which she was stolen.

"Allow me to introduce you! First, Cerenopia, where we currently reside, is the largest and most prosperous of all the kingdoms. Main Street, Epcot, The Frontier, and many other regions are all contained here. Cerenopia is led by the sister princesses, Cinderella and Snow White."

"Wait... You mean Cinderella and Snow White are sisters?" Mia shook her head in disbelief. "Man, they sure got those stories wrong on Earth."

"Separating them into two stories probably made them easier to digest," said Dreamfinder, "But you and I both know real life isn't as simple as that. Anyway, we'll save the sisters for later. All you need to know right now is they are the co-rulers of Cerenopia; though Princess Cindy is also a formidable warrior and thus plays a dual role as Cerenopia's guardian."

The fact that Cinderella was a great warrior had Mia intrigued, but Blair was already on the move, pointing to the map of Inafria.

"Inafria is a kingdom mostly populated by, as you put it, anthropomorphic denizens. It's leader, of course, is King Simba, who presides over his people from The Pride Lands. He is a fierce warrior, but he is not Inafria's only protector. In the dense Seeonee Jungles, a young man also defends the land. The Wolf Warrior, Mowgli, is their chosen guardian."

Mia made a conscious effort not to laugh at Blair's description of Mowgli as a Wolf Warrior. It was hard for her to apply the words 'warrior' and 'guardian,' to the scrawny little kid in the red diaper from the Disney movie; though she felt to say this aloud would be disrespectful. Besides, it was entirely possible that the real Mowgli from this world fit more with his literary counterpart in Rudyard Kipling's book, or perhaps was different than either version entirely.

"And the other eight?" she prompted, her eyes sparkling with the light and desire for knowledge.

"The next kingdom," said Blair, moving on to the third map, "is Rosebriar, considered the younger sister kingdom of Cerenopia. Rosebriar was once two separate nations. Rosemead and Briarton were united when Prince Phillip of Briarton and Princess Aurora of Rosemead were married. Now they lead the two kingdoms unified together as one. And Phillip is as noble a guardian as they come. Ceaselessly brave! And Aurora is as kind and true as any leader there is. And with the help of her three fairy mentors, she's quite handy with a dash of magic."

He had Mia's undivided attention as he continued to educate her on the allied kingdoms. Much was already familiar to her from the Disney movies, but there were more varied details to be learned. Mia suspected there would be more differences yet to discover, but at least with the context of the movies and fairytales she had the general gist.

"This is Zhongguo," said Dreamfinder, pointing at a map of a rather large nation. "It's actually better described as an empire than a kingdom, but it is one of the 10 Allied Kingdoms, nonetheless. Its leader, Emperor Huangdi, is a very wise yet stern ruler. But he has a very kind heart, especially when it comes to the chosen guardian of Zhongguo, Fa Mulan, daughter of the great war hero, Fa Zhou. Mulan fought a war against invading forces, despite, at the time, women not being permitted to join the army. She brought sweeping changes to Zhongguo. Changes for the better, most assuredly."

Mia rested her chin in her hand, studying the maps with an expression that spoke to her intelligence and curiosity. "So, really, Zhongguo, would you say, is very much a parallel kingdom to the country of China on Earth, just as Dizgaia is a parallel world to... well, to Earth?"

"Yes! Now you're getting it! It's not unusual for parallels between this world and Earth to exist. Some similar events in Earth's history may have occurred in Dizgaia's history as well. Parallel locations, parallel people... Parallel universes are truly a marvel of science! Now then... Oh, where was I?"

Figment, never to be forgotten, got him back on track. "Paridon! You were about to mention Paridon!"

"Ah, yes! Thank you, Figment. Paridon's story is a rather fascinating one. It's a nation that, for a long time, due to an enchantment placed over the kingdom, forgot they even _had_ a ruler. Prince Adam ruled that kingdom, but his disposition was quite awful. An enchantress punished Adam for his selfish ways and transformed him into a terrible-"

"Beauty and the Beast!" Mia blurted out. "You're talking about Beauty and the Beast! Belle was always my favorite Disney Princess! Is she much the same as she was in the movie? Oh, I'd _love_ to meet her! That movie is one of the reasons I took French in high school." She flushed embarrassedly. "That's silly, isn't it? French probably isn't even a language in this world."

"Actually, dear, Eastern Paridonians have a dialect you may find quite similar. You'll find Parese fairly on par with French. And yes, Belle is just as smart, just as beautiful, and just as imaginative as you remember her. But that story didn't exactly end the way you think. You see, in the time that Paridon had forgotten its prince, the world had moved on without him. Politics, technology, and society in general had developed to the point where having a monarch seemed archaic to most. When the enchantment was lifted, thanks to Belle's love for Adam, the people remembered him again."

"But you said they moved on. How did he regain control? Or did he?"

"Well, now, Adam isstill a prince, and while he certainly leads the people in a way, he doesn't truly _rule_ them. A different form of government arose in the time he was forgotten. Paridon has a Prime Minister now, a young man named Arthur Penn. You may think the two would battle for their respective positions as leaders of Paridon, but in fact Adam and Arthur are both close friends. While Minister Penn governs, Prince Adam serves as the chosen guardian of Paridon."

Mia tilted her head thoughtfully, considering the story Blair had told her. "Arthur Penn? Something about that name rings familiar, but I'm not sure why."

Blair smiled. To save her the trouble, he opted to clarify. "Perhaps the name of Arthur Pendragon of the King Arthur legends rings a bell. However, you mustn't base everything on what you know from Disney's films or even the original legends, necessarily. Sometimes names of places and people alone are parallels and nothing else. No need to get too caught up in trying to find parallels in everything."

Mia supposed what The Dreamfinder said made sense. There were many coincidences on Earth. Therefore, in a multiverse, it only made sense that one might discover even _more_ coincidences.

"But Dreamfinder," said Figment, "What about his sword?"

"Now, now, Figment. We could easily spend hours on the similarities and differences between Minister Penn and the King Arthur of Earth's legends, alone. But that wouldn't be productive. Miandra will soon learn these things for herself. We really should move on to-"

"Wait," said Miandra. "What about Belle? Did she marry Prince Adam and become a princess?"

"Belle and Prince Adam are married, yes. But Belle certainly doesn't spend her time locked away in a castle. She currently serves as the caretaker of the Paridon National Library, one of the largest libraries in _all_ of Dizgaia. And she's quite happy to do it. She's one of the most brilliant minds I've ever known. And her spark is a real thing of beauty. Now then, let's move on to... Agrabah!"

Mia grinned. This was a name with which she was familiar, but she allowed Blair to tell his tale. He did rather seem to enjoy it.

"Kingdom of mystery! Of enchantment!"

"And sand!" cried Figment. "Lots and _lots_ of sand!"

Blair gave Figment an exasperated smile. "Yes. Agrabah's environment is considered by most to be rather inhospitable. The only way to travel to Agrabah is by flight. That is, unless you wish to try your luck crossing the vicious deserts."

"It's flat and immense, and the heat is intense," said Figment, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow in a theatrical manner. "It's barbaric!"

"Some people call it home, Figment. Like the ruler of Agrabah, Sultan Hamed, and his daughter, Princess Jasmine."

Mia's hand shot into the air as though she were a pupil in a classroom. "And Aladdin is Agrabah's protector, right?"

The Dreamfinder laughed as she exhibited the excitement of a young student in class - Professor Mercurial's Dizgaian Geography Class.

"Absolutely right!"

Figment fluttered down beside her. "Wow, Miandra! You know so much already!"

"Well, to be fair," she said, "You might consider me a bit of a cheat, having seen the Disney movies and such."

"The brave Aladdin! Defender of Agrabah and expert treasure hunter! Like the tales of Robin Hood, young Aladdin searches for great riches, but keeps none for himself. Instead, his treasures go to those less fortunate than he. But I suppose that's only to be expected of a young man who found a genie only to give the indentured spirit his freedom."

"But he never took over for the Sultan? I mean, he didn't marry Jasmine and become the ruler of Agrabah?"

"Heavens no. Aladdin has not the breeding nor expertise for such an endeavor, but his bravery and selflessness made him the ideal choice to be Agrabah's guardian."

"But what about Jasmine? Didn't he marry her?"

"Well, no. Not yet. There is no lack of commitment there, but Aladdin does seem to have trouble settling down. He has more of a proclivity for adventuring, but his beloved Jasmine is more than content to accompany him on his adventures, leaving the politics to her father. Sultan Hamed does well enough, I suppose." Blair stroked his beard as he returned to his maps. "Where to now?"

Figment pointed to a map that was half-land and half water. "There, Dreamfinder! Vandsgaard and Atlantica!"

"Wait, wait," said Mia. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. Atlantica sounds like Atlantis. There's a kingdom of water and a kingdom of land right beside is, so that must be Ariel and Prince Eric's kingdoms. Am I right?"

Figment clapped his hands. "Yeah! She really _is_ good!"

"That's right, Miandra. Atlantica is the Kingdom of the Merfolk, led by King Triton. Vandsgaard is the kingdom that boarders the waters of Atlantica, where you'll find King Eric and Queen Ariel. The two kingdoms have formed a close bond, though due to their very different environments, have not become one in quite the same way as Rosebriar."

"So, King Triton must still be the ruler of Atlantica, right?"

Blair nodded. "As you may recall from the film, King Triton has seven daughters. Atlantica's heir apparent is the eldest, Attina. But King Triton is still quite formidable despite his age, and so he continues to lead his people. King Eric, an exceptional naval commander and skilled fencer, acts as the chosen guardian of Vandsgaard. And although she is Queen of Vandsgaard, Ariel acts as the chosen guardian of Atlantica."

"So, Ariel is the queen of one kingdom but the protector of another?" Mia mused. "Then, can she change back and forth between human and mermaid at will?"

"Of course!" Blair replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Otherwise, she would not be able to live such a life."

"Wow! That's awesome."

"Awesome, indeed," said Blair with a laugh. "It certainly made it easier to come visit you when you were just a baby. Goodness, there was simply nothing the princesses loved more than coming to play with you."

"Wait, you mean Ariel and... and _princesses_ \-- plural -- came to play with me?"

"Yes, indeed! They simply couldn't get enough of you. Why, I remember at the time, our home on Tomorrow Hill had practically become a hideaway camp for the princesses. All the slumber parties..." Blair trailed off and gave a little shudder. "Singing at all hours of the day. Oh, but it broke my heart to kick them out and send them back to their husbands and fathers, but our house was hardly big enough to accommodate them all, and they _did_ have responsibilities to tend to."

Mia had no words, so great was her astonishment. She could only gape at The Dreamfinder as he spoke of the Disney Princesses as though they were practically family.

Blair chuckled at her expression. He could see Miandra trying to wrap her mind around the idea of being visited by the female royalty of her favorite fantasy stories. With his position in Cerenopia and close relationships to its rulers and the rulers of the other allied kingdoms, it was not so unusual, but he supposed to Miandra it was hard to believe.

"Shall we move on?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Of course. Let's see, Cerenopia, Inafria, Rosebriar, Zhongguo, Paridon, Agribah, Atlantica and Vandsgaard... That just leaves two more kingdoms, right?"

"That's right. And I saved the two most peculiar kingdoms for last."

Dreamfinder motioned to a kingdom that, while not very large, seemed to rest atop an impossibly tall mountain. "We now turn our attention to the Kingdom of Olympus, one of the most ancient kingdoms in all of Dizgaia; a kingdom surveyed beneath the overseeing watch of the master of thunder and lightning himself... Zeus!"

Mia went wide-eyed. "Wait. You mean to tell me there's a whole pantheon of Greek gods running around on Dizgaia? I mean, I know _Hercules_ was a Disney movie, but I thought surely an entire race of gods would be... well, just too much."

"Heavens, no, Miandra," said The Dreamfinder with a laugh. "While the residents of Mount Olympus may be referred to by the common folks as _The Pantheon,_ Zeus and his family are not _actually_ gods. They may possess marvelous powers and abilities, but each of them is as mortal as you or I. And it must be noted that while they watch from above - from what can be considered a different world entirely - they rarely interfere in the day-to-day lives of the people below. Except one, that is. The emissary between the common folk and The Pantheon, and the chosen guardian of Olympus, is Zeus' son... Well, you already said his name."

Clapping his hands together, Figment chanted, "Hercules! Hercules! Hercules!"

Mia tilted her head quizzically. "So, they're not gods, but they're like people with supernatural abilities. Almost super human." Her eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh! Like Superman!"

Blair scratched thoughtfully at his beard. "Superman... Superman... I'm afraid I am not familiar with him. But if the description I gave you matches this _Superman_ , then yes, I suppose they are."

"I guess your knowledge of Earth pop culture would be limited to Disney licenses and fairy-tales, huh?"

"That is true, dear. Although I am well educated in matters concerning Earth, it _is,_ after all, a different world, as alien to me as this one is to you. I'm sure you'll have much to teach me. And I am eager to hear. But for now, let us continue our orientation on Dizgaia."

Orientation. Mia thought of how ironic it all was. The reason she'd even arrived here in the first place was because she'd come to Disney World for an orientation, only to be dismissed. And now here she was, having an entirely different sort of orientation.

"As you stated yourself, there is no more _super_ of a man than Hercules. He lives amongst the people of Olympus, but he didn't start out that way. Due to interference from other darker, more sinister pantheons-"

"Hades?"

"Indeed. His meddling resulted in Hercules living in the lower world where he grew up with the common folk. But upon learning the truth of his birth, Hercules used his strength to bridge the gap between the people below and the Pantheon, thus making them another kingdom we can call our allies. Granted, Zeus and the Pantheon rarely interact with us folks below, except when necessary. We mostly commune with Hercules, the mighty hero whose strength is only matched by the power of his heart."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Mia, already quite familiar with the tale. "The strongest man alive and all that. But the last kingdom!" Her eyes sparkled with a desire for adventure, and all at once her countenance became almost that of a child. "Neverland, right? Neverland and Peter Pan and Captain Hook and The Lost Boys and Tinker Bell and the crocodile and pixie dust and flying and never growing up and I really wanna go, can we go?" She asked this series of questions practically all in one breath.

Blair held up both hands and laughed. "Slow down there, Miandra. Yes. Neverland is the 10th Kingdom. I saved the specifics of Neverland for last because Neverland's situation is _very_ curious indeed."

This was the part Mia was most eager to hear about, although she was quite certain The Dreamfinder couldn't tell her anything she didn't already know. However, he soon proved her wrong. Blair opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out three different maps. He unfolded them and showed each one to Mia.

"Each of these is a map of Neverland. Notice that _none_ of them are the same." He brought a hand to his head, rubbing his brow as though staving off an encroaching headache. "Each time we've been to Neverland, it's changed. The locations, the shape of the island - it's never consistent. It's mind-boggling, even for someone with an imagination like mine. And it's rarely ever in the same place in the world! One time, we tried traveling to Neverland to get an update on its coordinates, and it simply wasn't where we last logged it."

"Huh. That's weird. I mean, it always seemed to me from the story that Neverland existed on a different plane of existence all together, being that they had to travel to a star. But otherwise it seemed stationary enough." She leaned closer over the maps. "I wonder why it's like that."

"Why indeed," said Blair, "But geographical conundrums aside..." He grabbed his desk chair and wheeled it over to Mia and took a seat in front of her. "When you were but an infant, we were finishing our research on developing a means to travel from one kingdom to the next instantaneously. We were using..."

He trailed off and a subtle pang of hurt crossed his face, as though he were recalling a painful memory. But it was so brief that Mia thought perhaps she'd just imagined it.

"We were using Alice's Mirror to develop this technology. Eventually, we accomplished it. In each kingdom there are what we call Dreamports, created from the magical and scientific properties of the mirror. We'd finally developed the means for quick travel between all the kingdoms except-"

"Neverland?" Mia supplied.

The Dreamfinder slumped in his seat, crossing his arms. "While Princess Tiger Lily has a good head on her shoulders and is usually quite sensible, she won't allow us to build a Dreamport in Neverland..." He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Because Peter doesn't want one."

"But if Tiger Lily is technically the ruler of Neverland, who cares what Peter wants?" asked Mia. "The Dreamports sound like a marvelous invention, and a necessary one, too, if all 10 Kingdoms are to be allies. And you said that Neverland is one of the 10 Allied Kingdoms, right?"

"That's correct, Miandra. They _are_ the 10th Kingdom and they _are_ an ally and always come when needed. But Peter Pan can be a touch... difficult to deal with. Tiger Lily told me herself that all the partnerships in Neverland are tentative. With the threat of pirates, Tiger Lily's tribe _needs_ The Lost Boys and Peter on their side. But if Peter is upset, then it's all _very_ frustrating. Fascinating, but frustrating. The island responds to his moods, after all."

"But if they're one of the Allied Kingdoms, and I imagine Peter is the guardian or protector of Neverland, why _wouldn't_ he wanta Dreamport?" She paused as something occurred to her. "Oh! I think I get it. Neverland is supposed to be a magical land where you never have to grow up. Peter wouldn't want grown-ups coming and going to his island whenever they please, would he?"

Blair smiled at his daughter. "Your deductive reasoning is spot-on, Miandra. Sadly, that is the predicament we find ourselves in. And there's no convincing Peter otherwise."

"But really, it makes sense. Besides I always thought Neverland's charm was its secret of eternal youth and that it was inaccessible but to the right people." Mia paused again, frowning. "Though I... I suppose that means I can't go there."

Blair watched the painful realization dawn on her face. All at once, her defense of Peter dwindled like a melting candle, and the ember which remained burst into a flame of ire.

"That's not fair! That's... that's ageist! What a little punk! And to think I had a crush on him when I was a kid!" She crossed her arms and slouched in her seat.

Blair gave her a sympathetic smile and shook his head. "Truth be told, we often wonder if Neverland is truly even a part of this world. We've been trying to develop tracking technology, sort of a Neverland Prediction System. But..." He sighed and shrugged. "Perhaps you'll have a chance to go there someday, but I really can't say when."

"That sucks!" Mia proclaimed. "I have half a mind to put that little boy over my knee and give him one hell of a spanking."

The Dreamfinder grimaced. He didn't much like the image Mia had just painted in his mind. There were a few things she didn't know about the Peter Pan of this world that differed from the one in James Barrie's classic story, but perhaps that was best left for another time.

Mia let herself collapse rather dramatically upon the chaise lounge. "What good is a magical world if you can't even use _magic_ to go the most magical of places?"

"Oh, Miandra. There is _so_ much to do and see in Dizgaia. Neverland is but a small piece of a much larger puzzle. Don't let a boy's selfish whim discourage you. There is no shortage of adventure to be had here."

"Are there other lands? Other kingdoms aside from the ones you just mentioned?"

"Why yes, there are in fact. Dizgaia is a very big world. Honestly, you'd be better suited taking a proper class in this, but let's see what I can recall off the top of my head. Oh yes, Arendelle is a small kingdom in the northern hemisphere where-"

"You mean like in _Frozen?_ "

"Frozen? Well, yes, it is a rather cold climate-"

"I mean like from the movie."

"The movie? You mean a Disney film? Oh dear, I'm not sure I'm familiar with that one. Is it fairly recent?"

"In the past four years."

"I see," he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "That would be why I am not acquainted with that one. Flynn would be more familiar than I, being that he is the closest thing we have to an ambassador currently."

"Was Walt Disney the last?"

"He was the last truly effective one, I suppose. No one came closer to merging the two worlds than Mr. Disney with his version of Epcot and Tomorrowland. We've had a couple others since him, but aside from the films, they've not made quite the impact we'd hoped for. Sadly, our latest ambassador is dealing with some legal troubles on the other side, and I'm afraid his tenure with the Disney Company is reaching its end. I suppose we will be without an ambassador for a while. Anyway, I digress. What were we talking about again?"

"We were talking about Arendelle," Mia reminded him.

"Ah yes. Are you familiar with Mr. Andersen's tale, _The Snow Queen?_ "

Mia nodded.

"I imagine it's safe to assume that between this _Frozen_ tale and _The Snow Queen,_ you'll find a middle-ground, and therein will lie the truth. Now, what can you tell me of Mr. Andersen's story?"

"Well," Mia began, "it's a story of two children, Gerda and Kai, who are best friends. And there's this troll mirror that was built by an evil sorcerer or the devil or something. It's said to distort the appearance of whatever it reflects, like people who are good and beautiful, and magnifies their bad and ugly aspects. The mirror breaks and shatters into a billion pieces. The wind carries the splinters and they get into people's hearts and eyes, freezing their hearts and making their eyes unable to see goodness and beauty."

"Yes," The Dreamfinder nodded. "Do go on."

"One winter, this happens to Kai and he has a falling out with Gerda, abandoning her to go with the Snow Queen, whose heart is said to be cold as ice. She treats Kai as something of a pet. Gerda goes on a long journey to rescue him. When she finds him, she embraces him and her love melts his heart and burns away the splinters of the troll mirror. Then the Snow Queen is defeated. I may be leaving something out, but that's most of what I remember."

"Indeed. That is more or less what I recall of Mr. Andersen's story myself," said Dreamfinder with a nod. "And what of this _Frozen_ film?"

Mia regaled him with the story of Disney's _Frozen._

"Ah. Interesting. Very interesting," said the Dreamfinder, stroking his beard again.

"So, what's the real story?" asked Mia, leaning towards him with the eagerness of a child at bedtime.

"Well, they got the Snow Queen's name right. Queen Elsa of Arendelle. But she has no sister. This Anna character in _Frozen_ seems to be a version of _Gerda_ from _The Snow Queen._ In our world, Gerda is much more like the Gerda in Mr. Andersen's story. She is not related to Queen Elsa in any way, but neither is she a child as she is in _The Snow Queen._ She is a young woman, and Kai - not Kristoff - is her lover."

"I see. That's _a little_ different than Hans Christian Andersen's story, I suppose."

"It's more different than you think," he said. "See, in our world, Queen Elsa was very close with both Gerda and Kai. All three friends grew up together. In time, as Elsa grew, much more was expected of her. As more and more responsibilities were heaped upon the young princess, soon to be queen, she had less time for her friends. While Elsa was holed up in the castle learning how to run a country, a romance sparked between Gerda and Kai. Rumor had it that Elsa became quite jealous."

"Woah..." said Mia, placing her chin in her hands and leaning forward. "A love triangle? That's pretty wild. Poor Elsa."

"Poor Elsa, indeed. The romance between her two friends hurt her deeply. She felt betrayed. Heartbroken, her powers went haywire and her heart became as cold as her magic. Much like in Andersen's story, she kidnapped and seduced Kai, using him as bait to lure Gerda to the castle. What followed is anyone's guess. Whatever the case, Gerda and Kai were never seen again. Perhaps they are her prisoners now. But no one truly knows."

"So wait... is Queen Elsa a bad guy?"

"It's difficult to say, Miandra. She certainly didn't start out that way, and I hear she rules Arendelle nobly and justly. When it comes to her personal life, it gets a bit gray. But as far as Queen Elsa and Arendelle's position within our world, she is considered a neutral party."

"Neutral? You mean to say Arendelle is not aligned with the 10 Allied Kingdoms?"

"No. No, it is not. And all attempts to sway Queen Elsa otherwise have proven futile."

"If she's neutral, that presupposes that there is another group aside from the 10 Allied Kingdoms, doesn't it?"

"Very astute, Miandra. That being said, it's time we discussed a more serious matter."

"What is it?" she asked.

"The Dark Ones."


	7. History of a Dark Grudge

"Although we have strived to make this world a utopia, and have very nearly succeeded, there are still many dangers this world has to offer, namely, The Dark Ones."

"The Dark Ones?"

"Indeed. Those you might consider to be the villains from Earth's beloved fairytales and Disney films. Perhaps you can name a few."

Mia thought back through all the kingdoms and heroes Blair had just mentioned and listed off their respective villains. "Let's see. Captain Hook, Hades, Ursula, Jafar, Gaston... GASTON!"

Figment tumbled off the chaise lounge and onto the floor. "AH! WHERE? HIDE ME!" He flew to Dreamfinder, trying to wriggle his way beneath his coat.

"No, I mean... He's not here right _now_ , Figment."

Figment peeked out from Dreamfinder's coat. "You shouldn't say things like that, Miandra," he said, trembling. "Gaston is a notorious hunter. When he tired of hunting the usual game, he started going after more adventurous prey. He'd have my head on a wall in his pub, if he could."

"I would never allow that, Figment," said Blair, patting his head affectionately. "You know that."

"Sorry," said Mia. "It's just that in all my excitement, I nearly forgot my encounter with Gaston earlier today. He and those creepy goblins that chased me and Flynn – why did they come into _my_ world?"

The Dreamfinder drew a deep breath. "Perhaps it is time I share a very important story with you, the story of Beverly and Blair Mercurial and their dearest daughter, Miandra."

It was the first time she'd heard his name, Blair Mercurial, and the first time she'd heard her mother's surname before she married Edward Baxter; _Mia's_ first surname. Miandra Mercurial. It had a nice ring to it. Mia leaned forward to listen. Perhaps this should've been her first line of questioning – how it was that Blair was her father, how she and her mother had been a part of this world, and why they'd left.

"Beverly... That is, your mother and I met on Earth during the midst of what I believe you'd call The Great Depression. To be precise, the year was 1937."

"What? The Great Depression? My mother was alive in... in 1937?"

"That she was. In fact, she was working for Mr. Disney. That's how I met her."

Mia's jaw dropped. "Mom worked for Walt Disney? But she _hates_ Disney movies."

"Perhaps you will soon see why that is," said Blair with a melancholy sigh. "In any case, I was having one of my meetings with Walt, and he was excitedly regaling me of his most recent endeavor, an animated film project of the tale of Snow White. Your mother, Beverly, was one of the many colorists working diligently to finish the film. It was Walt who introduced us."

He recounted for Mia his frequent visits to Earth, not only to talk shop with Walt Disney, but also to visit Beverly, of whom he'd grown very fond.

"Beautiful and imaginative, I couldn't help falling in love with her," he said, "And so I decided to tell her the truth about myself."

"Mom _imaginative?_ Are you sure we're talking about the same woman?"

"You speak of your mother as though that isn't still the case," Blair said with a frown. "I suppose after everything she went through here, she lost a bit of her spark."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," said Mia. "Ever since I can remember, Mom has always been a very practical and no-nonsense sort of person. And what exactly do you mean by 'everything she went through here'? What happened?"

"I will explain all in due time, Miandra. I'm sure you can appreciate the need to tell a story from the beginning."

Mia nodded.

"Very well. Let's see... Ah, yes. I told your mother the truth about who I was and where I came from. Naturally, she did not believe me at first. So, I had to prove it to her. I brought her here to Dizgaia. She reacted pretty much the way any sane Earth person would in her situation – she fainted."

"Mom fainting? She must have been a lot different back then. Though I suppose I sort of had the same reaction," Mia said, blushing. "Anyway, for me, it was a little more than just the dimension-hopping. Looking at you closely, for the briefest of moments, I remembered your face smiling down at me, and I somehow just instinctively knew you were telling the truth about being my father. I didn't even know people were capable of retaining memories from infancy."

"The mind truly is a wondrous thing," said Blair with a loving smile. "Just when you think it's found its deepest potentials, it still ends up surprising us. Though I'm certain you remember the face of a thinner, younger, less beardly Blairion Mercurial." He stroked his bushy beard, chuckling softly.

Blairion Mercurial. That name was a mouthful. Still, it suited him.

"The eyes and smile are the same," she said, gazing at him shyly. "Anyway, your look suits you. You're like a steampunk Santa Claus."

"Steamed pumpkins?" said Figment, licking his lips hungrily.

"No," laughed Mia. "Steampunk is... Well, never mind. It's a compliment, at any rate." Her smile gradually became a frown. "But I'm still confused. How is it possible that you and my mother could still be alive and in your, what, 40s? And yet you lived during the Great..." She trailed off, deducing the answer for herself. "Time passes differently here, doesn't it?"

"From what I gather, that does seem to be the case. The next time I saw Mr. Disney, he had aged quite a bit, though not much time had passed for me at all. Time moves much slower here. Knowing that, I knew I had to convince your mother to come with me and be a part of this world. It took some doing, but she finally agreed, and although it took her some time to acclimate herself to this world, she soon fell in love with it and lived with me here for quite some time before we finally married. Shortly after, you were born. Born with the brightest, most brilliant spark I've ever seen. A spark I still see in you to this day."

Mia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Yes, you said something about that earlier. And Flynn said something similar. He said that I was like lightning in a bottle. What is this spark you keep talking about? What does it mean?"

"There's no part of the mind perhaps more powerful than the imagination, Miandra. And because the imagination is so powerful, it gives off a light; a light that can only be seen with the use of proper equipment, or..." He pointed to his eyes with his pinky and index finger. "... through _my_ eyes. The stronger your imagination, the brighter your light. That light is your spark! It's the light of imagination, creativity, and inspiration. It is something to be valued more than any material possession in all the world! After all, we all have sparks—"

"Imaginations!" cried Figment, hovering at his shoulder.

"That's how our minds—"

"Create creations! Hehehe!"

"For they can make—"

"... our wildest dreams come true!"

"Those magic sparks..." With a flourish of his hand, Blair conjured a beautiful red rose out of thin air. "... in me and you." He handed it to Mia. She almost expected it to vanish when she touched it, but it was as real as could be.

Gently she caressed its vibrant red petals. "Wow," she breathed. "You must have one hell of a spark." She turned the rose slowly in her hand. "Could _I_ do this?"

Blair took hold of his lapels and smiled proudly. A compliment from his daughter was worth more than gold to him. "With a spark as bright as yours, my dearest, I _know_ you can. You just need the proper training. And I, of course, will be the one to teach you."

"Awesome!"

Blair could read her expression like a book. She had a fire and a passion to achieve something she thought of as magical. Once, he thought she might make a wonderful Imagineer, but perhaps it was her destiny to become a dreamfinder. But the moment passed, and Mia became pensive.

"Wait. You never explained about Gaston and those goon things and why they came to Earth. What did they want there?"

Blair lowered his head. "Yes... Well, there are those in this world who see people with such sparks as a threat, people who wish to snuff out the light of inspiration. It was my unfortunate experience to come across one such person face to face, when you were still but an infant."

He took a deep breath, suddenly sick to his heart as he pulled out the painful memory from so long ago. Mia could tell this was hard for him to talk about, and though she pitied him, it only strengthened her curiosity.

"Late one night while your mother and I slept, someone came into our home with the intention..." He swallowed. "...with the intention of snuffing out your spark."

"S-Snuffing out? What does that mean?" Mia asked, though she feared she already had an inkling. "Who was it? What happened?"

Figment settled onto the couch beside Mia, covering his eyes. "Oh no! This is the scary part."

"We awoke, one night, to an eerie glow coming from the nursery. When we peeked in on you, there seemed to be nothing amiss. Just you in your crib – with Figment, of course."

Figment uncovered one of his eyes. "Of course!" he said before covering it back up.

Mia lifted an eyebrow, glancing down at the small purple dragon. Figment with her? In her crib? Interesting. But she didn't have time to question this as Blair continued his story.

"It was then I noticed something lurking in the shadows. To our immense horror, it was Maleficent, the mistress of darkness herself, who stood before us in the nursery. And her intent was most foul."

Mia gripped the arm of the couch hard enough to turn her knuckles white. "Maleficent? What happened?"

"She intended to... to..." Blair shook his head. His face had taken on a sickly pallor. "Well, never mind what she intended to do. I wasn't about to let her lay a hand on you. But as powerful as I may be, I'm no match for Maleficent's magic. However, your friend and guardian put up a wondrous fight against her."

"My guardian?"

Who or what could that be? It must be something truly formidable to fend off Maleficent.

"Maleficent took the form of a large black dragon, a form with which she no doubt intended to put an end to all of us. But Figment came to our rescue."

"Wait, _Figment_ fought her off?" Mia glanced down at the small, goofy dragon in disbelief. "No offense, but I find that kind of hard to believe. Especially if Maleficent's dragon form is anything like it was in the movie," she said with a shiver.

Figment gazed up at Mia, looking mildly offended. "You don't think I could do it?" Fluttering into the air, the little dragon began air boxing. "I gave her one of these, and one of those..."

Mia giggled. "I think I'd like to see that -- er... perhaps without the other dragon involved," she quickly amended.

"Figment was your protector, Miandra. After all, I created him to be such. It took much imagination power to do it."

"Really?" she asked, glancing sideways at the little dragon who was still boxing at an invisible enemy. "You made me a dragon? I thought he was just a part of the song."

"His creation has far more purpose than what the Journey Into Imagination ride lets on, Miandra. I made him not merely for my own amusement, but for the amusement and protection of my only daughter."

A dragon. That was one hell of a gift to bequeath to a baby, and quite possibly the coolest present anyone had ever given her. She could see the light in Blair's eyes, the eyes of a man who loved his daughter so much that he would create a dragon for her protection. Though she'd only met him today, already she could feel her heart filling with love for her biological father.

"That night, Figment transformed himself into a noble guardian beast, matching Maleficent in size. As formidable as Maleficent may be, she was unprepared to do battle with another dragon. Who would suspect such ferociousness to be hiding in such a small pet reptile?"

"Not me!" claimed Figment. Then, tilting his head quizzically, he took pause to consider what he'd just said.

"After a fierce battle, Maleficent retreated. Though the victor, Figment did not escape unscathed, I'm afraid. She delivered a near fatal wound to poor Figment's belly. Were it not for me, he may well have died. But as Figment is a creation from my spark, I could also heal him using my spark."

"Poor Figgy," Mia cooed.

Figment basked in the attention by rolling onto his back and placing his head in her lap. "Yes, yes... Poor me," he said gazing up at her with sad puppy dog eyes.

"But very brave," she added, stroking his belly.

"Hehehe!"

"Thanks to Figment, we all survived the night. Cerenopia was put on high alert and I was left with a destroyed house, a frightened wife, and the mother of all migraines."

"But she never came back, at least. Maleficent, that is. Right? I mean, we're all still alive. Figment must've scared her away pretty good."

"Well, it _is_ true that she never came back. In fact, aside from a few encounters reported around the kingdoms, her forces have been rather quiet these past few years. That is, until today. It seems Maleficent is still carrying a grudge after all this time. Gaston is Maleficent's hunter and the commander of her ground troops, when need be. His appearance in Disney World, along with that of the Goons, tells me that she hasn't forgotten about you, Miandra. Why she's waited until now, I can't say, but it seems that your spark is still a threat to her. This move from Maleficent's forces is currently being investigated. In the meantime, you must be careful."

Mia swallowed nervously. "At first, I thought there was some kind of mistake," she said. "I thought maybe they mistook me for someone else. Well, actually, I first thought they were a part of some wild stunt, or that one of Disney's character actors had snapped. But to think they were after me, specifically... I mean, spark or not, I don't get it. I haven't really done anything that spectacular. I don't have any magic powers or anything. I can't conjure something out of thin air with my imagination like _you_ can."

"Perhaps it is not what you've done, but what you _might_ do that has them on edge," Blair explained. "You're _my_ daughter after all. With your spark, your potential for creation is limitless. And while I'm endlessly proud of you for having such a wonderful imagination, I also worry about your safety. Just as your mother did so long ago."

"Does that have something to do with why she left this world?"

Blair nodded, his gaze lowered. "Your mother was frightened of further attacks, and rightfully so. I tried to assure her that everything would be fine. We were offered protection from Princess Cinderella. Several magic users of the light came to Cerenopia and placed protective enchantments around the kingdom as well as our home. But it wasn't enough. Beverly wished to take you away; away from magic and dragons and witches and wizards."

"But didn't you—"

"I tried desperately to stop her. She hadn't been to Earth in over half a century. It was a much different world. And since Walt died, I hadn't been back, myself. As far as I could tell, Earth was a world of pain, suffering, and violence; a world that simply wasn't ready for utopia. It was on those grounds I urged your mother to reconsider, but she thought it'd be safer to take her chances on an Earth she didn't know, than to stay here with me."

He took off his top hat, holding it in his lap, his gaze lowered. Mia saw his hands were shaking and her chest tightened. Deep inside, she was a cyclone of turbulent emotions – pity for Blair, fear of the dangers that posed a threat to her, and anger at her mother for taking her away from this amazing, magical world when she was too young to make the choice for herself.

"It broke my heart to see you both disappear from my life," said Blair. "You spoke your first words to me that day, just as you both slipped away from me forever."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Mia asked, "What were they? My first words. What did I say?"

The man before her barely resembled the man she'd first laid eyes on upon arriving in Dizgaia. He looked... broken. Blair lifted his gaze to Mia, a sad smile playing across his lips.

"Your tiny hand reached out to me, and you said, 'Da-da.'" Tears rolled down his rosy cheeks and into his beard. "Then, one small leap through the looking glass and you were both gone. Taken from me."

Mia's heart gave a sudden, painful throb. Her eyes began to prickle. She'd only just met this man and still had a lot to learn about him. But he was her father, and that was enough.

Blair's hands cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. "A part of me died inside that day," he told her, "But it does me good to see you again, Miandra. I'm so, _so_ happy to have you back, my dear daughter... my greatest dream."

Mia took hold of his wrists, holding his hands in place for a moment before she slid them away from her and rose to her feet. She lowered her head and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. From head to toe, she was positively atremble.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm... I'm so sorry that my mother... that she did that to you. If I'd been able to make a choice, I never would have left. But I'm here now, and now that I've returned..." She lifted her face and there were tears in her eyes. "I'm NEVER going back! And quite frankly, I don't care if I ever see my mother again!"

Mia turned and fled from the room. She felt so horribly upset, so betrayed, so bitter and angry at her mother, and she did not want her father, whom she'd only just met, to see such an ugly side of her. And so, she fled from him, not knowing or caring where she was headed, only that she must get away.

"Miandra!" Blair called after her. He hadn't shared that story with the intention of angering her, and he certainly wasn't trying to turn her against her mother.

"She looked pretty mad," said Figment.

"Go after her, Figment. Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble. Your duty as her guardian begins anew of this moment."

The small dragon lifted into the air and gave him a salute. "Aye, aye, sir!" He turned and flew out the door and into the hallway beyond, tracking his angry young mistress.

Dreamfinder sighed and plopped onto the couch, clasping his hands together between his knees. He shook his head.

"Dear, Miandra..."


	8. The Tremaines

Mia wasn't sure where she was going. She didn't exactly know her way around. A small voice in the back of her head warned her that this was foolish, reminding her of what The Dreamfinder had said about the dangers of gallivanting off, but she couldn't seem to stop running. She simply picked a direction and took it, sending people scattering about on a large marble staircase as they gazed dumbfoundedly at the distraught young woman.

In little time at all, Mia found herself outside the Imagination Institute. The immediate campus looked very similar to the surrounding area of Epcot in Disney World, right down to the leapfrog fountains. She took a seat on the small stone wall surrounding one such fountain to catch her breath. Throughout everything, she still held the rose that Dreamfinder had given her. She gazed upon it now, her fingers tracing the petals as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Figment had dutifully chased her down and now hovered in front of her. "Miandra, why did you run away?"

"You're really a naïve little thing, aren't you?" Despite her words, she threw her arms around him and held him close to her chest. "Just let me cuddle you for a moment, okay?"

"Okay."

Figment smiled in spite of the tears plopping onto his head. It felt nice having Miandra hold him. He let out a sound of contentment deep in his throat as he stretched his neck and nuzzled his head against her chin. He was quiet for perhaps the longest time since she'd met him, but Mia was certain he was about to say something silly. However, his words surprised her.

"Miandra, don't hate your mom."

Mia sighed. "It's not that I... Look, I don't _hate_ her." Though even it to her own ears it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. "I'm just angry at her. I don't care if she thought she was protecting me. She should've waited and given me a choice. Instead, she made the decision before I was old enough to know any better. She took me away from a magical fairytale world that little girls can only _dream_ of, and she never told me the truth of who I am or where I'm really from. She never even _tried_. Besides, it was wrong of her to leave him like that," she said, speaking of Dreamfinder. "He hides it by being all jolly and whimsical, but surely you, who's been with him for so long, can see how much pain he's in."

"He's a lot happier now that _you're_ back, Miandra," said Figment. "I've never seen him so happy in a long, long time. So maybe... maybe you don't have to be so mad at your mom anymore."

"It's not that easy, Figment. I promise I don't hate her, but I won't forgive her either. Call me selfish if you like, but I'm not going back to her. I want to get to know my father. So, I'm going to stay here, danger or no. Besides..." She glanced around, taking in her surroundings more closely since recklessly dashing outside. "I want to explore this world to the fullest."

Wiping her eyes, Mia strolled through the campus with Figment fluttering at her side. They weren't alone in their outdoor excursion. Others walked about the campus, too, either on break or visiting friends and family who worked at The Imagination Institute. There seemed to be all manner of people – employees in white lab coats, and visitors garbed in attire reminiscent of the medieval nobility or the Victorian aristocracy; though Mia was relieved to see that most of them didn't dress too dissimilarly to her. There were plenty of T-shirts and blue jeans to be found. At least she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb.

A group of children led by an older woman walked in a line towards the front doors. It seemed to be something of a class field trip.

"I wanna work here when I grow up!" a little boy shouted excitedly.

"I'm gonna be an Imagineer just like my mama!" claimed a little girl.

"Do we get to meet The Dreamfinder?" asked another.

It seemed Mia's biological father was quite popular. Did everyone in Cerenopia know of The Dreamfinder? Was he a household name? Could she possibly be the daughter of a famous person? Her musings were interrupted by the loud whoosh of rushing wind. Mia glanced up and watched as the monorail shot off like a bullet across the tracks overhead.

"Hey! Let's go for a ride, huh?" she said, grinning mischievously at Figment. "Where's the station?"

"I don't know, Miandra," said Figment, scrunching up his face. "I was charged with your protection. I'm supposed to keep you safe."

"Aww, come on, Figment. It's just the monorail. We'll take it for a round trip, just so I can get a good look at the city. Then we'll come right back."

"Just ride the monorail? Hmm. Sounds safe enough. After all, nothing bad ever happens on the monorail." He flew on ahead of her. "C'mon! I'll show you!"

"That's the spirit!" said Mia as she followed him to the station.

"There are seven monorail stations in all," Figment told her. "One for each major facility in Epcot. The Imagination Institute is only one of seven facilities of research, development, and education. But it's the best!"

"I don't doubt it," said Mia.

People bustled about the station, some boarding and disembarking the mono. It was busy, like any big city, but it wasn't filled to the brim with the sheer humanity that was Disney World, further evidence that this was a real city and not a theme park. Mia boarded the monorail, Figment fluttering at her shoulder. She took a window seat in the middle of the train and watched the scenery fly by.

"Oh man... This is amazing! It goes even faster than the ones at Disney. And there seems to be more of them. How far do these go, anyway?"

"Uhm... I think it goes all the way around Epcot, then over to Main Street."

_Main Street, huh?_

That was interesting. In Disney World, Main Street was in the Magic Kingdom. What was Main Street here in this world, Mia wondered. Perhaps it would prove far grander than its Earthly counterpart.

Mia watched the futuristic metropolis rush past the window. She saw the other facilities Figment had spoken of. They all bore a striking resemblance to other Epcot park attractions. And, of course, in the center of it all, the larger doppelganger of what Mia knew as Spaceship Earth in Disney World. But beyond all this, she saw neighborhoods, parks, schools, and shopping districts – just like in Walt Disney's blueprint for Epcot as it was originally intended. This was truly an Experimental Prototype Community Of Tomorrow.

The monorail came to a stop at the next station and most of the people onboard disembarked here. "Last stop for Epcot," came a man's voice over the intercom. "Next stop Tomorrowland Station, Main Street."

"Miandra, shouldn't we get off here?"

"No way. I wanna explore. Let's go to Main Street."

Figment gaped at her, his wide yellow eyes blinking in surprise. Mia felt a little guilty tricking him the way she did, but who could blame her for wanting to explore?

"It'll be fine," she insisted. " _You're_ with me, right?"

Figment sighed as the doors slid shut and the monorail took up its journey once more, en route to Main Street. He gazed out the window, watching as Epcot grew smaller and smaller behind them. This was the furthest he'd ever been from The Dreamfinder. He'd always been at Blair's side, or at least not far from him. Even when Miandra was a baby and Figment was watching over her, Dreamfinder was never far. But now, they were alone. It made Figment a little nervous, but he would nonetheless carry out his assignment of watching over Mia wherever she went.

Soon, Mia and Figment were only two of a few people left on the monorail, most having departed with the end-of-day rush. It was fairly quiet until eventually the sound of female chatter arose a few seats down from them.

"I don't know why we don't go to the shops in Epcot City Center more often. They're way better than any of the shops in Main Street. Look at all the cute things I bought! And these new heels! Oooh I love them! I want five more pairs just like them. I don't understand you, though, Drizella. All you cared about was stopping at that Zhongguo shop for that silly stick. What a waste of money that was."

The incessant babble and the mention of a vaguely familiar name caught Mia's attention, and she glanced in that direction. Her eyes fell on two attractive but somehow brutish-looking young women. The chatty one had curly red hair and wore a maroon, steampunk-style skirt, which was short in the front and long and frilly in the back with a tight corset wrapped around her middle. She wore mid-length black boots with vicious looking heels.

The other girl wore her hair in a long dark braid. Aside from a black corset and medieval-style blouse, her clothing was relatively normal, consisting of blue jeans and high leather boots that were far more sensible than her sister's. Curiously, she had a bamboo sword strapped to her back. She kept her head turned away from the chatty redhead with a pair of earbuds to drown her out.

These girls were interesting, to say the least, and Mia couldn't help watching them. They vaguely reminded her of something, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. However, it was when her eyes fell upon the person sitting beside them that Mia had to suppress a gasp. The person in question was an older woman, perhaps once beautiful but now weathered by time, dressed in a crimson pantsuit with a high-collared blouse. She wore her hair in a familiar gray pompadour. There was no mistake. Somehow, Professor Tremblay was here in Dizgaia, riding the monorail with these two girls.

Mia quickly ducked her head behind the seat and motioned Figment towards her. "Hey," she whispered. "You see that woman up there? She looks just like my English Professor from college, Professor Tremblay. In fact, I'm almost certain she is. But I don't know why _she'd_ be _here_ of all places. Do you know her?"

Figment glanced in the woman's direction and made a face. "Bleh. That's no trembling professor. That's Lady Tremaine, Princess Cindy's former foster mother. She's about as pleasant as getting stuck in tar and falling into a briar patch."

"What? L-Lady Tremaine?" Despite her shock, she kept her voice down. "Listen, Figgy. Lady Tremaine or not, that woman was on Earth at my college. She's the reason I— Well, that's not important, but I think I might be in trouble here." Her eyes shifted nervously to the doors. "I need to get off this train as soon as possible, and I can't let her see me."

"What do we do?" asked Figment. "The monorail won't stop until we get to Tomorrowland Station. Oh! I know! Let's turn invisible!" In a puff of purple smoke, Figment became transparent, except for his large yellow eyes, which seemed to float in midair. "Are we safe now?"

"I can't do that, you silly dragon. And besides your eyes are--"

"You there! Girl!" It seemed the puff of smoke had caught Lady Tremaine's attention. She rose to her feet for a better look at Mia.

_Shit._

Mia wished she'd worn a hat or something. She kept her head lowered so her hair hung like curtains around her face. She considered, at first, ignoring the woman, but to do so would likely arise more suspicion, or possibly even induce her ire.

"Y-Yes, ma'am?"

The red-haired girl had stopped talking. She and the other rose to their feet alongside Lady Tremaine as she glared down at Mia. There was no hiding from that stare.

"Just _how_ did _you_ get here?" she demanded.

She recognized her.

Mia swallowed and replied quite innocently. "In Disney World?"

Her response was feeble at best; a truly weak attempt. There was no way Lady Tremaine would believe that Mia thought she was in Disney World and ended up here by mistake. But it didn't matter. She barely acknowledged her response.

"Anastasia!"

In a sickeningly sweet tone of obedience, the girl replied, "Yes, mother dear?"

"Drizella!"

Taking the buds out of her ears, the other girl responded in a flatter tone. "Yeah, Mom?"

Lady Tremaine's furious gaze never left Mia. "Mother doesn't like this girl. Take care of her."

"Sure," said Drizella, unsheathing her bamboo stick.

Anastasia reached into her purse and put on a pair of black, fingerless gloves with brass knuckles woven into the lacey material. "Yes, Mother."

Figment gulped and became visible once more.

"Crap!" said Mia, yanking him out of the chair and backing slowly away from the Tremaine sisters. "Figment, how close are we to Tomorrowland Station?" she hissed, backing towards the doors.

"Uuhh..."

Lady Tremaine offered up a malicious smile as her two daughters stalked towards Mia. Anastasia pounded her fist into her palm, grinning wickedly. Drizella wielded the kendo stick over her shoulder.

"Tomorrowland Station!" announced a voice over the intercom.

The mono screeched to a halt and the doors behind Mia opened onto the platform.

"GET 'EM!" shouted Drizella.

The two girls launched themselves at Mia and Figment.

"ACK!"

Mia spun and scrambled out the doors with Figment flying after her.

"Crap, crap, crap..."

She ran through the station, taking the stairs two at a time until she landed at the bottom and found herself on a cobblestone street which ran through a picturesque city that, despite its large size, had a sort of small-town charm to it. Which way to go? She didn't exactly know her way around the town, and there was no time to ask Figment for directions. Mia picked a random direction and took it at a run.

Figment flew alongside her, as fast as his two tiny wings could carry him. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" he cried.

Drizella raced down the stairs, hot on Mia's trail. The same route proved a challenge to Anastasia in her high heels, so she slid down the railing with graceful but deadly speed.

Coming from Epcot to Main Street was like traveling to the past. As Mia ran down the cobblestone street, she found that unlike Main Street USA in the Disney parks, the roads weren't utilized by happy pedestrians. Here, there was actual traffic to be found. Curiously, all the cars looked as if they could be from as early as the 1920's up to the 1950's. A 1920 Ford Model T followed along behind a 1957 Chevy Bel Air. On top of that, there were also horse drawn buggies and cable cars, though Mia didn't have much time to appreciate it as she tried to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Tremaine sisters.

"HURRY UP, ANA! SHE'S GETTING AWAY!"

"I'M WEARING HEELS, DRIZELLA!"

"SCREW YOUR HEELS!"

In her panic, Mia ran into the street and had to execute evasive maneuvers to dodge the cars hurtling towards her. "This isn't fair!" she panted. "I didn't do anything! And since when are the ugly stepsisters so... badass?"

_And not ugly._

She glanced at Figment as they ran. "Can't you do something? Like turn into a giant fire-breathing monster like when I was a baby?"

"What? Turn into a monster? Well—" Figment didn't have a chance to finish this thought as he nearly collided with a horse pulling a carriage down the street. "WHOA!"

The horse reared up on it's hind legs, kicking its front legs in the air at him. The driver was knocked backward out of his seat and Mia and Figment barely managed to dodge before heading down an alleyway, hoping to lose the sisters, only to come to a screeching halt. Their progress was impeded by, of all things, a New Orleans-style Jazz procession making their way down the street ahead.

"Damn it! We'll have to double back and--"

A pair of hands seized Mia's shoulders and yanked her back into the alleyway where she was tossed roughly to the pavement. Mia threw out her hands to catch herself, protecting her face but dropping her flower in the process.

Anastasia pounded her fist into her palm and Drizella tapped her bamboo sword against the ground threateningly. "Thought you could get away, huh?"

Mia scrambled to her feet, knowing that time was of the essence if she was to escape them. But no sooner had she found her footing, Anastasia threw a first and clipped Mia on the side of the face with her studded glove.

"AGH!" Mia spun and tumbled back to the ground. The two sisters circled Mia like sharks smelling blood.

"Get her up!" ordered Drizella.

Anastasia cackled and pulled Mia to her feet, forcing her to turn so that her back was to Drizella. Mia could hear the girl tapping her bamboo blade against the ground. She knew what was coming. Mia clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. No matter how much it hurt, she was determined at the very least not to cry.

CRACK!

"NGH!"

Anastasia released her and Mia fell to the ground, the skin of her back ablaze with a fiery sting. Her outstretched arm fell within a fingerbreadth of the rose Blair had given her, drawing the sisters' attention to it.

"Well, well. Look at this. Someone gave her a pretty flower. Who gave that to you? Your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend? A plain girl like her? Not likely."

Drizella snorted a laugh as she brought her boot down upon the rose.

"No! Wait! Please don't!"

Too late. The rose was crushed beneath Drizella's uncaring boot. Mia lay prone on the cobblestone alleyway, tears welling in her eyes as she watched the boot come down again and again, trampling the flower, a special gift from her birth father, the tragic figure whom she'd finally met after 19 long years. Although she'd promised herself she wouldn't, Mia couldn't help it. She began to cry.

Meanwhile, Figment was glancing both ways down the street, searching for an opening in the Jazz band. When he found it, he called out to Mia. "Hey, Miandra! I found an opening."

He glanced behind him. Mia had disappeared.

"Huh? Miandra?"

He retraced their steps back to the alley and arrived just in time to see Drizella crush the Dreamfinder's rose as Miandra cried and begged her to stop. These girls were making Miandra cry! Not on his watch!

"Oh look, Drizella. She's crying. I'll give you something to cry about!" Anastasia put her heels to Mia, stomping and kicking her with those vicious boots.

Mia brought her arms up, blocking any devastating blows to her face, but down the heels went into her shoulder, ribs, and stomach. Those heels were the most painful thing of all, and try as she might, she could not help but scream in agony. Drizella lifted her kendo stick, ready to bring it down onto Mia's backside again, but with a growl, Figment flew towards Drizella at full speed, headbutting her in the midsection and knocking her off her feet and onto the ground.

"We forgot about the dragon! You slimy little creep!" Anastasia took a swing at Figment, but he dodged her fists.

"Slimy? Me? Look at all that styling goop in your hair, lady! Hey, there's an idea!" He inhaled deeply and blew at her, but all that came out was a large puff of smoke followed by a hack. Try as he might, he couldn't get a flame out. Without Dreamfinder's imagination, he didn't have the strength. Being so far away from his master made him weak.

Anastasia laughed. "What good is a dragon that can't breathe fire? You're not a dragon at all, are you? More like a silly mascot." She threw another studded fist at the small dragon and nailed him in the stomach. The blow caused Figment to hack. Fortuitously, a tiny ember escaped his mouth and alit upon Anastasia's head. As Figment spiraled weakly to the ground beside Mia, Anastasia's hair ignited.

"YAAAAAHH!!!"

"ANA!" shouted Drizella, scrambling to her feet. She searched desperately for something to put out the flame, finding only a jar of pickle juice sticking out of a nearby garbage can. She seized the jar and yanked the cap off.

"PUT-ME-OUT-PUT-ME-OUT-PUT-ME-OUT-PUT-ME-OUT!"

Drizella threw the pickle juice onto her sister's head, dousing the flame and drenching Anastasia from head to toe. Anastasia looked like she was about to vomit.

"Blech! I... hate... pickles..."

"Shut up. At least it's out." Drizella tossed the jar aside before she turned to Mia. "You and your little amphibian friend are gonna get it now!" she shouted as she raised her kendo stick.

Mia cradled Figment protectively in her arms and closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself against a blow that never came.

"Hey! Leave them alone!" A man had just stepped out of the back door of a restaurant. He held a ukulele by the neck and raised it over his shoulder like a baseball player ready to take a swing. "And that's NO amphibian. Trust me, I would know."

Anastasia looked positively mortified. "Y-You're... You're Prince Naveen..."

"That's right. And you... whoof... smell like pickles."

With a mournful wail, the fashionable debutante turned heel and fled. "Whaaaagh! I wanna diiiie!"

"A-ANA!" Drizella glanced at the handsome Naveen, whose face was hardened in a glare. "Damn it!" she cursed, taking off after her sister. "AANNAAA!"

Naveen waved. "Abinaza, bitches."

"You okay?" asked Mia .

Figment nodded dizzily, and she gently set him aside, now turning to where her trodden flower lay. On her knees, her cheek bruised, lip bleeding, and her hair hanging in her face, Mia picked up the scattered rose petals and placed them gently into the breast pocket of her denim jacket, trying unsuccessfully not to cry.

_Mia, you idiot. It's just a flower. Stop crying. Besides, some prince guy is watching you and you've probably got snot coming out of your nose!_

A pair of shiny shoes entered her line of sight and the man lowered himself to a crouch in front of her. "That's the most action I've seen around here in a long time."

A hand reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her head up. The eyes which gazed upon her were a soft, warm brown set in a handsome face with skin the color of fresh cappuccino. The man had dark, wavy hair and wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a tie beneath a beige sweater vest.

"Hey. Are you okay, lil' lady?"

Mia blushed and gulped audibly at the sight of the man who'd come to her rescue. Not only did he bear a familiar countenance, but he was handsome as hell. And a prince, at that! Before she could reply to his inquiry, another voice rang out from the open doorway.

"Naveen! Here I am workin' the dinner rush and I catch you out here flirtin' with girls in the alleyway! Why I oughtta..." The young woman trailed off, realizing the state of the girl in question. "Oh my!" She shoved Naveen out of the way and went to Mia, taking her gently by the shoulders. "You okay, honey?" She helped Mia to her feet, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Here, come on inside."

The young woman had dark brown skin and beautiful amber eyes set in a soft, kind face. She wore a green, semi-formal dress with long, formfitting gloves. A small gold tiara sat atop her jet-black hair. This woman was also vaguely familiar, but Mia was in such a state of distress it was difficult to think of anything but the beating she'd just taken. Sobbing, she allowed the young woman to lead her into the building from which the prince had emerged.

Shaking off the attack, Figment got his wings flapping again and lifted himself into the air alongside the prince.

"Ya see that? I save the day and look at the thanks I get. I tell ya, what am I to do with her, eh, Figment?" Naveen shook his head as though suddenly realizing who he was talking to. "Figment! I almost didn't recognize you!"

"You thought I was someone else?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid. It's just that I haven't seen you in such a long time." He motioned Figment to follow him. "Come in, Figgy! Come in!"

Mia gazed bleary-eyed at her surroundings as the kind young woman escorted her through what looked to be a restaurant. With her arm around Mia, the woman led her to a small table at the back of the room.

"Mama, Louis... Would you take care of things for a minute? I need to see to this girl."

The older woman bore a strong familial resemblance to the young lady. She gave the younger woman, presumably her daughter, a concerned look.

"Sure thing, sugar."

The other to whom the young lady spoke was a large, anthropomorphic reptile holding a trumpet. He gave a quick salute, "Yes, ma'am! You got it, sister!" and trotted off to take orders from the patrons.

Mia gaped after him. "That was an alligator!"

The young woman, who was obviously the proprietor of the establishment, escorted Mia to the table, making her take a seat. "What in the world happened to you, honey?"

Before Mia could reply, Naveen and Figment joined them. "Tiana! That girl... Look who was with her!"

"Oh! Figment, is that you? My, it feels like I haven't seen you in... Well, in quite a while, sugar! Naveen, honey, can you get some ice for her lip?"

Naveen nodded. "Be back in a hop, skip, and a jump."

"How about you, Figment? Are you hurt, too?"

Figment shook his head, trying not to wince. "I've... ngh... had worse. I'll be okay!"

"What exactly happened?"

"We were on the monorail, and Lady Tremaine was riding with her daughters, and she was like..." Figment puffed out his chest and stuck his snout in the air in a pompous manner. " _I don't like her."_ He plopped himself onto the table. "So, they chased us around and beat up poor Miandra!"

"Lady Tremaine? Why, that no good, low-down, devious little... Wait a minute. Did you say Miandra?" Tiana took Mia's face in her hands and lifted her head to gaze upon her. "Why... Why yes! I see it now! You look so much like your father; though you've definitely inherited your mama's good looks. Naveen!" she called over her shoulder. "Do you know who this is? It's Miandra Mercurial, the professor's daughter!"

It was the first time Mia heard that last name attributed to her. Until recently, she'd thought of herself as Mia Baxter. But she supposed she was equally Miandra Mercurial. She had to admit, she liked the alliteration; though at the moment, she was a little too sore and upset to really take the proper time to admire it.

Naveen returned with the handmade icepack, his eyes wide at the revelation. "Miandra? The Dreamfinder's kid?"

At this audible proclamation, a murmur rose within the restaurant. People were turning their heads, trying to get a look at the long-lost daughter of Blairion Mecurial. Mia supposed the story of the Mercurial family and the fate of she and her mother must've gotten around. After all, a major attack by Maleficent and a great dragon battle surely must have caught the attention of the kingdom. Naveen handed the icepack to Tiana.

"It's been quite a while since you've been around these parts... and look at you!" Naveen stretched his arms out towards her. "All grown up already! And pretty, to boot!"

Mia flushed scarlet from the tip of her forehead to the base of her neck.

"Has it really been so long?" he mused. "I guess maybe on the other side it has, huh?"

Mia recalled what Blair had said, that time passes differently here. It suddenly occurred to her that when she was a baby, Tiana and Naveen were likely not too much younger than they were currently. In fact, if her mother had never left, Mia might still be a little kid on this world. She supposed stealing her youth was another thing she could add the list of grievances against her mother.

Naveen shook his head in amazement. "Miandra... Wow! I guess you really wouldn't remember us, since you were only a year old last we saw you. Your family – you, your mother, your father– you used to come in all the time! You were all regulars."

"I'm sorry to say I don't _personally_ remember you," said Mia, "but I _do_ know who you are. A benefit of living on _the other side_ , I suppose."

Tiana pressed the ice pack to her swollen, bloody lip.

"Nnn!"

"Oooh... Sorry, sugar."

"Ah yeah. From the stories and cartoons. Well, you can't always judge a real event by its story, you know. They don't always get it right. But..." Naveen rubbed his chin as though presenting a fine work of art. "I do believe they got my dashing good looks pretty spot on!"

Mia's tears ebbed, and for the first time since getting the tar kicked out of her, she giggled. "Can't argue with that." She glanced nervously at Tiana. "Uh... That is to say... I mean... I'm not trying to—"

Tiana waved and hand dismissively and smiled. "Don't you worry, honey. I take it as a compliment. 'Sides, if there's any misunderstandings to be had, it's probably _this_ one's fault." She jabbed her thumb towards her husband.

Naveen leaned against the table, studying Mia curiously. "When did you get back? And _how_ did you draw the ire of that bottom feeder, Tremaine?"

"That's the thing," said Mia, lowering her voice. She figured she couldn't be too careful. "Lady Tremaine – I once knew her as Professor Tremblay. She was my writing professor and head of the English Department at my college on Earth. I don't know why she'd be between worlds like that other than... well..."

She glanced around. The patrons had mostly returned to their lunches, but a few were still looking in her direction. She dropped her voice even lower and Naveen and Tiana leaned closer to hear.

"Blair... er... that is, my father said that there may be bad people looking for me. Something about my spark. I only just arrived today, after Flynn saved me from Gaston and some Goons. They were on my world. And if Lady Tremaine was acting as my college professor on Earth..."

"Then _she_ must be working with the Dark Ones," Tiana finished, her eyes wide.

"Ashidanza!" said Naveen, rubbing the back of his neck. "I knew that Tremaine was a money-grubbing snake, and why Princess Cindy keeps putting up with 'er rattles my mind. But to think all this time she was worse than we thought!"

"Naveen," said Tiana. "You need to take Miandra back to the professor immediately. He needs to know about this."

"No problem. But first... Hey, Louis!"

The massive alligator returned. "What's happenin'?"

Mia gazed up at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Contextually, she knew who this was, but he was not a goofy-looking cartoony alligator by any means. He was more anthropomorphic, like something out of a science fiction graphic novel. Despite his charming and good-humored demeanor, he was quite the intimidating sight to behold.

"I need three orders of House Gumbo to go. On the house for the pretty lady and her dragon pal."

Mia blushed a second time at Naveen's compliment. She wished he'd stop doing that. It was all she could do to keep from swooning like some airheaded maiden. A prince calling her, Mia Baxter, pretty, not once but twice in the same day... she could hardly take it.

Louis looked between Mia and Figment, smiling a wide, toothy grin. "Hey! She looks familiar! Ain't she—"

Naveen placed a hand on Louis' snout and turned his head to the side. "It's a rush order, Louis. C'mon, git!"

"All right! I'm goin, I'm goin! You _do_ remember I'm a musician, _not_ a waiter, right?" he said as he trotted off.

Mia could feel the floor trembling beneath his weight and shook her head in disbelief. "Holy heck..."

Tiana was giving her another look-over. "Well, it seems we've gotten a bit of the swelling in your lip down, but you still have a nasty shiner on your cheek. Poor thing. You make sure you have a Baymax check you out when you get back to your father, now."

Mia nodded. Tiana and Naveen were so warm, kind, and welcoming, it almost moved her to tears again. When Louis returned with the three orders of House Gumbo to go, Mia's stomach growled at the smell. How long had it been since she'd had pastries in the World Showcase at Epcot on Earth?

Tiana pulled Mia in for a tight hug and placed a kiss on her cheek. Mia blushed for what felt like the third or fourth time that afternoon.

"You take care of yourself, you hear? Make sure your daddy keeps an eye on you." Tiana turned to Figment. "And you keep protecting her, understand? Why, I remember when she was just a baby, way back before you could talk, Figment. You were always at her side like a good little guardian. Now remember, it's just as important to be fierce and protective as it is to be goofy and make her smile."

Figment nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Of course, Tiana! I'll always protect Miandra! It's what I've always done! Uh-huh! Even before I could talk!"

Naveen whispered to Mia. "And now he never stops talking."

Mia stifled a giggle behind her hand, and yet the implications of this were rather heartbreaking. If Figment couldn't always talk, but he did now, was it because he'd eventually learned human speech, or did Blair grant him the power of human speech out of loneliness after his wife and daughter left? It was far too painful to think about, and Mia was in enough pain as it was.

Naveen kissed his wife and placed a pageboy cap on his head. "I'll see she gets back to The Dreamfinder with no trouble." He motioned Miandra and Figment to follow him. "Shall we, then?"

Naveen led Mia around the backside of the building to an old-fashioned delivery truck with the words _Tiana's Palace_ on the side.These old timey cars were blowing Mia's mind, especially when they existed in the same city as a monorail and other such technological luxuries. Like a true gentleman, Naveen opened the passenger side door for Mia.

"Lady's first, of course."

Figment flew inside before Mia could enter. "Wow! Wow! Shotgun!"

"I said _ladies_ , not... Ah, forget it."

Mia climbed into the passenger seat behind Figment, making him sit in her lap. She was not going to take a backseat to a dragon.

"I'm sorry I interrupted you guys during such a busy time at the restaurant," she apologized as the truck chugged down the cobblestone road. "And thanks... you know, for helping me out back there."

"Hey, it's really no problem at all. I was stepping out for a moment anyway. Sometimes a man's gotta have a moment to unwind. You know, take a breather, play his music, just slow down. As for helping you out, it was my pleasure. Those Tremaine women are rotten to the core. Even more now than ever!"

"Naveen... er... I mean, your highness..." She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to call him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Please, just Naveen will do me. Don't worry about the whole stuffy _highness_ stuff. After all, my house may say _Palace_ on the outside, but I'm a working man, sweetheart. And sure! What's your question?"

"How come Lady Tremaine and the stepsisters are just walking about free as you please? I mean, they're bad guys, right? They tried to stop Cinderella from marrying the prince and living happily ever after. So how come they're, you know, not in prison or something?"

"Marry the prince? Cindy?" Naveen tilted his head back and laughed. "You really don't know much from around here, do you, Miandra? Princess Cindy never married any prince. In fact, that scummy prince turned out to be a spy for the Dark Ones. That sleazy two-timer was playing both Cindy _and_ Princess Snow with the intention of taking them both out of the picture."

"Really? The prince is a bad guy?"

Naveen snorted. "If he even _is_ a prince. But those cunning sisters outsmarted that chump. And now..." The truck turned onto Main Street's main street and Naveen adjusted the rearview mirror, giving them both a good glimpse of the castle at the end of town. He jerked his thumb backwards. "The two princesses lead Cerenopia together. No kings, no queens... and _no_ princes. They do, lemme tell ya, a bang-up job."

"That's very progressive." Mia leaned back in her seat, hugging Figment to her chest so he wouldn't feel left out. "And the Tremaines?" she ventured again.

"Well," said Naveen, his tone darkening. "Lady Tremaine was a noblewoman in the court of King Elias, Cindy and Snow's father. But after he was poisoned by his second wife, Queen Grimhilde, the queen sent Cindy away. Cindy wound up in the care of Lady Tremaine, while the Queen kept Snow. I suppose she thought, with Snow being younger, she could manipulate the poor girl better. It's all pretty tragic, I'll tell you that. As for Tremaine, she always acted so loyal to King Elias. She was quite trusted in his court. I suppose that's why she became Cindy's foster mother. The queen claimed she was too distraught to rule a kingdom and play mother to both girls. And a bunch of malarkey that turned out to be. In time, Tremaine came to resent Princess Cindy – no one quite understands why – and she began to treat her like a slave, while she did everything in her power to advance her own station in life, and that of her two daughters."

It was quite the story, and far more interesting than the tales of her world; though Mia thought perhaps it would be callous to say so. After all, the whole thing was a horrible, sordid affair; a true deep-seeded conspiracy in the kingdom which stretched its tentacles through not only Queen Grimhilde, but Lady Tremaine and even the supposed Prince Charming.

"The two sister princesses reunited when the queen's treacherous ways were discovered. But despite everything, Cindy couldn't find it in her to punish the Tremaines. After all, Lady Tremaine _did_ raise her. If anything can be said about Princess Cindy, it's that she's got the biggest heart of anyone in the world." Naveen shook his head. "If it were me? I woulda kicked that old crone and her miserable daughters to the curb."

Figment's scaly brow furrowed with worry. "But if Lady Tremaine is working for the Dark Ones...?"

"Then Cindy might be changing her mind right quick," said Naveen.

"It sounds like Lady Tremaine was in on it with Queen Grimhilde from the start," said Mia. "Only, with her supposedly being a loyal courtier, there's no real evidence. I suppose if there was proof she was as guilty as Grimhilde, Cinderella might've locked her up. But now that I know she was posing as my college professor on Earth..." Mia trailed off and she turned a panicked gaze to Naveen. "If Lady Tremaine realizes what I just realized, and that she's incriminated herself by her interactions with me, then..." She swallowed and hugged Figment tighter to her. "Then she's gonna be out for blood. _My_ blood."

Naveen's expression was grave. "Sounds to me like you might need more protection than just lil' ol' FIggy, here."

"We need to talk to Dreamfinder!" said Figment. "He always knows what to do! Or Princess Cindy! Or maybe Yen Sid!"

Mia tilted her head quizzically. "Yen... Sid?"

Naveen nodded in agreement. "Miandra, I say start with your father and work your way up. If anyone can keep you out of trouble, The Dreamfinder is that man."

"Is he really that powerful? I mean, I only just met him, and truth be told..." Mia trailed off and hung her head in shame. "Truth be told, I didn't get to know that much about him. When he told me how it ended with him and my mother and how she abandoned him and took me with her, I got so upset that I just ran off. That's how I got into this whole mess in the first place."

"Well, I say, there's no better time to get to know your old man than now. And... you can do it over a nice hot container of Tiana's Palace House Gumbo."

"Oooooh... I can't wait!" said Figment. "I'm really hungry!"

"It _does_ smell really good," said Mia, her stomach growling. She watched the scenery roll past the window. They were now driving through Epcot. Naveen's truck, which resembled an automobile from the 1920s, certainly looked funny rolling through the streets of the futuristic metropolis, but it chugged along just as smoothly as any brand spanking new vehicle on Earth. In fact, it seemed to run way better than the same car on Earth would have in its prime. Whatever they used to power these cars must be a much cleaner fuel source than gasoline.

"I liked it better when your family lived in the house on Tomorrow Hill," said Naveen conversationally. "It was a much shorter drive."

Mia followed his gaze out the window. Much of the landscape was situated in a valley, the castle in a more mountainous region, but she saw the hill he was talking about in the distance from where they'd come, closer to the Main Street area. Even from far away, she could just make out the house. Small, but charming with lots of land, and far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city.

"You mean, Blair... my father doesn't live there anymore?"

"Well, eh... no. I'm not sure I'm the one to be telling you this, Miandra, but although repairs were made after the incident with Maleficent, once you and your mother left, your father... Well, he never returned. I guess it was too painful for him."

"Then where is it he's been living all this time?"

"Well, I'm not one to assume, but rumor has it he never leaves the Imagination Institute, that he eats, sleeps and just... well, _lives_ in his office."

Mia frowned. That certainly didn't sound like a healthy lifestyle. Perhaps she should speak to Blair and see about going back to their old house. With his daughter returned to him, perhaps he'd be willing to go back and start a new life.

A new life. Return home. Yes, somehow it felt right.

Back in Blair's office, Mia was so upset with her mother, that she told him she had no intentions of returning to Earth. At the time, she had said that out of anger. But only now did it occur to her that she was already thinking of this place at home. But was it truly wise to stay? With the danger she encountered today and the danger that may yet be after her, was this really the safest place? Should she be making that decision so soon? After all, she'd only just arrived. Perhaps she was letting herself get too swept away by this magical fantasy world and the promise of what it had to offer, overlooking the parts she didn't want to think about.

The rambling delivery truck finally came to a stop outside the Imagination Institute. The blood red light of the now setting sun glinted off the facets of the glass pyramids. Naveen put the truck in park and turned to Mia with a smile.

"Well, this looks like your stop, little lady. You take care of yourself now. We're happy to have you back, but it seems like trouble might be a-brewin'. You make sure you tell your father everything, okay? If the Dark Ones are becoming active again, then The Dreamfinder will know what to do. He's got friends in high places."

Mia nodded. Naveen was so kind, she almost felt like crying again. She gathered the take-out bag and opened the door. Then, hesitating, she glanced back at him. "Um... Naveen?" she asked shyly. "Do you think Tiana would be terribly mad if I gave you a kiss on the cheek?"

Naveen arched an eyebrow and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Weeeelll... Ah heck. I'm sure she'll survive one more day. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like your kiss will turn me back into a frog." He offered her a handsome grin, taking the beige cap off of his head and leaning his cheek towards her. "C'mon on then. Do your worst."

Mia grinned and leaned towards him, kissing him on the cheek. Then, she turned his face and kissed him on the other cheek. "That one's for Tiana," she told him.

Naveen pretended to swoon, shaking his head. "Ashidanza..."

Mia hopped out of the car, taking the food and Figment with her. As she turned to shut the door, she smiled and said, "Thanks for everything, Naveen. I hope to one day find my own handsome prince. And I'll consider myself lucky if he's even half as classy as you."

"You might find one half as classy, but it'll be hard to find one quite as handsome." He wiggled his eyebrows and placed his pageboy cap back on his head. "Abinaza, Miandra Mercurial!" With that, the old truck pulled away from the curb and chugged down the road, making its way back towards Main Street.

Mia waved goodbye until the truck was out of sight. To think that Prince Naveen and Princess Tiana were once a regular part of her life and that her family had been close friends with them! It was so surreal. And they were so warm and invigorating. The heroic Naveen and the kindhearted, sisterly Tiana. Mia hated to think what might have happened to her at the hands of the Tremaine sisters if they hadn't intervened.

Despite the warm feelings welling inside her, Mia couldn't help thinking back to what Naveen had said.

_It seems like trouble might be a-brewin'._

She hoped her new friendship with Naveen and Tiana wouldn't bring said trouble to their doorstep.


	9. A Dreamfinder's Daughter

The campus was quiet and not as busy as when Mia last left it. Most folks had gone home for the evening. Thankfully, it seemed the Imagination Institute never truly closed, and she was able to gain access. Through the front doors was a grand marble staircase. Mia took it, remembering the Dreamfinder's office was on the second floor. Halfway up, she stumbled and doubled over, wincing in pain.

"Miandra, what's wrong?" asked Figment, worried. "Are you okay?"

"It's my ribs," she said. "I guess that beating I took did more damage than I thought. I should've taken the escalator."

"Oh no! What'll we do?"

"I think I just need to sit down a sec. Here, take this," she said, passing Figment the takeout bag.

Gripping the railing with a trembling arm, Mia lowered herself to the stairs.Shewrapped her arms around herself and bent forward, drawing sharp intakes of breath against the searing pain. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

"Go on ahead, Figment. I'll... I'll catch up in a bit."

"Oh no! Hold on, Miandra! I'll find Dreamfinder! He can help!" Figment flew off in a rush, the takeout bag clenched tightly in his hands.

Blair stood in his office, staring at a full-length mirror that hung in a hideaway cabinet behind a panel on the wall. "Miandra!" he said sternly. "What were you _thinking_ running away like that? I'm so very disapo... disa... I'm _so_ mad... I told you it was dangerous to... I'm very cross with..."

He sighed, slumping his shoulders. He shook his head. He wasn't mad. He wasn't disappointed. He was just worried. And he felt horribly awkward. Here stood a man who'd gone from having an infant daughter, to having no daughter, to having a teenage-nearly-adult daughter in a matter of a few short years. As her father, he felt he should reprimand her for running off, but all he wanted to do was take her into his arms.

"You're awful at this, Blair. What kind of father are you?"

He shook his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror again, trying his best to look stern. He tilted his top hat forward and tried to hold himself in a more imposing fashion.

"Miandra! I am your father, and you will do as I... _you'll_ do... as I..." He slumped forward, taking off his hat and burying his face inside it. "Blarion Mercurial, you are the saddest excuse for a father..." He pushed the mirror back into the wall and gazed out the large window at the north end of his office. "Where _are_ they?"

As if on command, the door to his office burst open and in flew Figment, looking unusually perturbed. "Dreamfinder, Dreamfinder! Come quick! Miandra's hurt!"

"Miandra? Oh no! What trouble have you gotten yourselves into?"

In a panic, Blair followed Figment into the hallway, carrying a red med kit containing a compressed Baymax unit. They came upon Mia, curled up in pain on the grand staircase. Blair ran to her side.

"Miandra! Miandra, dear, what has happened to you?"

So much for the stern lecture. The Dreamfinder quickly discovered that when it came to his long-lost daughter, he was nothing more than her humble servant, wanting to do anything to see her smile. Was he even capable of reprimanding her? In this moment, it certainly didn't seem like it.

"I'm fine," she lied, managing a weak smile. "Figment probably exaggerated. If he told you two thuggish bimbos beat me up, don't believe a thing he says."

It was admirable that she could make jokes at a time like this. However, the dried blood on her lip and the bruise on her cheek was enough to show exactly how much of a joke her statement really was.

"Figment didn't say what happened. He only said you were hurt, but now I have an inkling." Blair held Mia's face in his hands, tracing his thumbs over her injuries. "Oh, sweetheart... Who did this to you?"

Mia wished he wouldn't fuss over her and make a big deal of it right there on the stairs. After all, the Imagination Institute wasn't entirely empty. There were a few stragglers casting them curious glances as they descended the stairs. It didn't help that in his panic Blair had already hit the activation button on the Baymax kit. He hadn't considered the logistics of their current position. So, there it was on the stairs that the Baymax unit was beginning to inflate, rising up from its case.

"Please don't fuss over me here. It's embarrassing," said Mia.

But the Baymax continued to rise, causing some penguins that were descending the stairs to scatter and a couple women in lab coats to give it a wide berth to get around.

"Shut it down, shut it down!" she cried, kicking at the slowly inflating Baymax, trying to shove him back in his case with her foot. However, this only caused more pain to shoot through her body and she winced. "Ngh! At least take me somewhere private, for God's sake."

"What?" Blair glanced over his shoulder, seeing the partly inflated Baymax. "Oh! R-Right!" He began pressing buttons on the red case. "Cancel... Cancel... Where's the confounded cancel button?"

He couldn't find it, so instead he thrust himself forwards, trying to push the large inflatable medical robot back into its case with very little success.

"Go back in! Blast it all!"

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

As he had once so long ago, Blair found himself behaving abnormally rash toward the Baymax unit. "I don't need you yet! Go back in!"

"You seem to be suffering from... Stress. Would you like a calming sedative?"

"I would like you... to deflate, dash it!"

As Blair flailed around, fighting both verbally and physically with the tenacious marshmallow-y robot, Mia buried her face in her hands.

"Oh my God. Kill me."

From the top of the stairs, a voice rang out. "Baymax, I am satisfied with my care."

At those words, the Baymax unit quickly deflated and returned to its case. Blair and Mia turned their gaze to the top of the stairs. There stood a young man, Mia's age by the look of it, smiling down at them in amusement. If Mia didn't know any better, she'd peg him as Japanese, assuming there was such a place in Dizgaia.

"Thank you, Tadashi," said Blair, relieved. "I was so worked up, I'd forgotten the verbal command."

_Tadashi?_

Yes, she knew that name. It was the name of a character who had died in Disney's _Big Hero Six_ movie. Tadashi was the elder brother of the movie's protagonist. In this plane of existence, at least, it seemed he hadn't died. It was nice to see certain tragedies didn't carry over from fiction into reality, further evidence that Disney's stories from Earth didn't necessarily reflect the events as they truly happened.

Then a thought struck Mia - if some good guys who died in the movies didn't die in real life, did that not also hold true for the villains? It must. After all, Blair had referenced Maleficent and certain 'Dark Ones' as though they were still around. And Gaston had definitely died at the end of Disney's Beauty and the Beast; nevertheless, he'd shown up in Epcot and attempted to kidnap her. Mia made a note to ask Blair more about the Dark Ones later.

Mia rose shakily to her feet, pulling herself up with the banister. But from all her fussing, her body had only suffered for it. She winced and let out a small cry of pain. Blair took her by the arm and helped her back to her feet.

"Oh, Miandra... I'm terribly sorry. I'm such a mess of a father, aren't I?"

"No, no. It's fine. You're just a tad embarrassing. Which is to say you're perfect father material." Mia gave him a reassuring smile, though there was a good deal of pain behind it.

Tadashi hurried down the stairs to Mia's side. "Here. Put your arms around my neck."

Mia did as he said and he carried her up the stairs piggy-back style. Blair hurried behind with the Baymax kit.

"To my office, if you please, Tadashi," he panted.

Tadashi glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Mia. "I'm Tadashi, by the way," he said. "You must be Miandra."

"H-Hi," she replied bashfully. "I know who you are - sort of. But it's nice to meet you officially, Tadashi."

Oh why, oh why did he have to carry her? She seemed fated to encounter handsome young men who leapt at the chance to rescue her today. Mia didn't think her teenage hormones could handle it.

_And this is only drawing more attention to me,_ she thought embarrassedly.

It certainly didn't help that Figment was darting about their heads asking, "Is she okay? Miandra, are you okay? Are we still gonna eat that gumbo?"

When they finally arrived at Blair's office, Tadashi set Mia upon the chaise lounge, leaving her in her father's care. "Can you handle it from here?" he asked. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Blair took a seat beside Mia and put an arm around her. "Thank you very much, Tadashi. I think we'll manage."

Tadashi nodded and turned his gaze to Mia with a kind smile. He rubbed the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly. "Okay... Well, I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Miandra. But don't worry; Baymax will take really good care of you. I promise."

Baymax. It was so strange hearing that name spoken so casually, the way someone on Earth would say _the nurse_ or _first aid kit_ , or _Band-Aid_.

Mia smiled back at Tadashi. "It's okay. Really. Thanks again."

Despite her words, as soon as Tadashi closed the door behind him, Mia began to cry. Figment, all a panic, fluttered around her frantically.

"Oh no! Not again! Don't cry, Miandra! I'll activate the Baymax Unit!"

Mia held out a hand to stop him. "Wait! Please. Just give me a minute."

"But Miandra, don't you want to feel better?"

Mia placed a gentle hand on his head. "Figment, do you think you could give us a moment alone?"

Figment glanced back and forth between Miandra and Dreamfinder. At first, it seemed as if the little dragon might take offense. But that little imaginary beast was full of surprises. Despite his goofy naivety, Figment had some moments of true insightfulness and understanding.

"Hmm... Okay. I'll go eat my gumbo, then!"

He grabbed one of the small takeout containers and disappeared into a small alcove high up on the bookshelf. Soon, Mia and Blair heard muffled but unmistakable munching coming from high above them.

"Miandra," said the Dreamfinder. "Are you quite sure you're all right? We really should have the Baymax look at-" He stopped short, watching as Mia took something out of her pocket. She opened her hand and showed Blair what remained of the rose he'd given her. She lifted her head and gazed up at him, eyes brimming with tears. Then, she began to sob.

Surprised by this moment of childlike weakness in his otherwise adult daughter, the Dreamfinder reached forward to embrace her, then hesitated uncertainly. But Mia went willingly into the arms of the father she'd only just met and, until recently, had thought to be deceased. She buried her face against his chest and cried. Blair held her tightly as he ran his fingers through her hair.

Blarion Mercurial was still so new at being a father. He'd hardly had the time to truly grow accustomed to the role, not since his beloved wife took their daughter and fled. He couldn't find it in him to truly be mad at Beverly for that. It hurt, and yet he understood. However, it had deprived him of the chance to become the father he should have been. Now the time had come for a full-on crash course.

"I'm sorry," said Mia after a while. "I don't know why I'm crying over something so silly."

"No, no. Don't apologize, my dear. I understand."

"The rose you gave me, it just meant so much and, I don't know, when they trampled it, I guess there was a part of me that thought maybe it would all disappear, like that rose was proof that you exist, that I really met you, and that this isn't all some kind of dream. I guess I'm just waiting for the petals to disintegrate and for this world - and you - to just unravel all around me." She gazed at him beseechingly. "Blair, what am I even doing here? Tell me truly - am I dreaming or is this real? Are you real? Is... is _any_ of this real?"

Blair took the top hat from his head and gave it a toss, sending it onto his desk across the room. He took Mia's hand, the one that held the remains of her flower.

"Miandra, you ask me for the truth, and I will tell you nothing but. This world is _very_ real. The things you can take in through your five senses, and the things that can only be handled through the sixth... or seventh... or even an eighth sense... Every last thing you experience here is no fantasy. It is no dream. But for someone who has lived on Earth for so long, this place can be a dream come true."

"It's just so much to take in. Everything is so familiar and yet not familiar. I'm still trying to reconcile what I thought I knew about fantasy and reality with what I've just learned. It feels like my brain is going to explode."

Smiling, Blair opened her palm and placed his hand over the remains of the mashed flower. "You know all the stories, my dear. Whether it be the old literary works or the animated film adaptations." There was a crack and a fizzle, and then a spark of swirling color moving between their hands. "The very real truth of it all lies somewhere in between."

When he pulled his hand away, the rose was fully intact once more, only this time the petals were like the colors of the rainbow. Mia gasped, mesmerized by its beauty.

"This _is_ that _In Between_."

Mia gazed up at him, her eyes shining. Something in his words rang familiar to her; something her adopted father had told her a long time ago.

"Now I see," she said softly. "Mom never stopped loving you, which is why she married a man exactly like you on the other side." Her anger for her mother did not subside in that moment, but it did lessen a little bit. "It's just like what my dad... er, stepdad once told me about the stories and the movies - that the truth is somewhere in between. I _do_ want to be a part of this world. But I'm a little scared."

"It can be a frightening experience, this world, when you don't understand it. I wish I could say that Dizgaia is a true utopia, but that's not the full truth. As there are dangers on Earth, there are yet more dire dangers here. But there are also those all across this world who can help you out of danger. And the first place to look for help is to look to family."

Mia knew this was his way of telling her that it was time she confided in him about what happened today. Thus, she regaled him with the series of events which followed after she ran off, starting with her misadventure on the monorail and her run-in with the lady whom she'd recognized as her college writing professor.

"You see, I was going to college to obtain a writing degree, but my writing professor, and the head of the English Department, said I wasn't any good. So, I..." Mia hesitated, embarrassed to admit the truth. "So, I dropped out. But my dad... er, that is, my stepdad, Edward, sent my portfolio out to some Disney execs and they called me for an interview. I passed the first interview and was meeting them in Disney World for orientation when they told me new information had come to light. They revoked the job offer because Professor Tremblay told them I was kicked out for plagiarism."

Blair furrowed his brow. He didn't understand. Why would this woman strive so hard to ruin Miandra's chances to succeed? Especially when Miandra had such a bright spark?

"It was shortly after that when Gaston tried to kidnap me. But, see, the point is, I saw that woman on the train today. When I pointed her out to Figment, he told me it was Lady Tremaine."

Blair's eyes widened. Now it was beginning to click.

"Her daughters were with her and she told them to 'take care of me.' They chased me down and beat me up. If it weren't for Naveen and Tiana..." She shook her head, unable to finish the thought. "But, you see what I'm saying? Lady Tremaine-"

"Lady Tremaine was on Earth posing as your professor. She knew you were there, and now it's obvious that the Dark Ones knew as well. And if Lady Tremaine was trying to sabotage you all along... She was trying to snuff out your spark. She's working with them." He brought his hand down and pounded a fist onto the arm of the couch. "Blast! I should have seen this before! Everyone knows Lady Tremaine is untrustworthy. But to work with Maleficent and _her_ lot... She must have panicked when she sent her daughters after you. Because now that you've seen her, her hiding-in-plain-sight act has been uncovered."

"Right. She knows I know her secret. And she won't want it to get out. I suppose that's why she wanted her daughters to... to dispose of me. But Naveen stopped them." Mia's brow knitted with worry as something occurred to her. "But when they tell their mother they couldn't finish the job, what happens then? Is she gonna try to, you know, kill me?"

The Dreamfinder stroked his beard pensively. "Tremaine, herself, doesn't have those sorts of resources at her disposal. And ever since Maleficent attacked when you were a baby, Cerenopia has been well guarded with enchantments. Unless she somehow finds a way out, Tremaine will be a sitting duck within Cerenopian boundaries, especially once we have an audience with Princess Cindy and Princess Snow. It's time Cindy found out just what sort of wicked person her former foster mother truly is."

The look on Blair's face was one Mia would not have expected of the Dreamfinder. It was, in a word, fierce. Despite his outwardly jolly appearance, in this moment Mia was offered a glimpse of the formidable man Blarion Mercurial could be if properly provoked. But his gaze softened as he looked at Mia, giving her a once-over.

"But first, we really must see to your injuries."

"You should eat, too!" called a voice from above.

"Eat?" Blair looked at his desk where the takeout bag from Tiana's Palace sat, and his stomach grumbled. "Is that... Tiana's House Gumbo?"

"It might be," said Mia with a giggle, "Provided Figment hasn't eaten it all. They gave it to us on-the-house. They said you used to be a regular, but they haven't seen you since..."

Mia trailed off. She really needed to stop reminding Blair of the horrible events surrounding she and her mother's departure from Dizgaia.

"A-Anyway," she said. "I suppose we should eat before it gets cold." She rose to her feet, trying unsuccessfully to hide the wince of pain that accompanied such a movement.

Blair placed a hand on her shoulder and made her sit back down. "First, we must have Baymax take a look at you," he said with fatherly sternness.

"If we have to," said Mia with a sigh. "It just feels so... theatrical."

"Nevertheless..."

With the press of a button on the red kit, the case opened and the big marshmallow body rose up once more. "Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."

Mia gazed up at him in disbelief for a moment. It felt like only three or four years ago she'd watched a movie in the theater with this robot in it. If she'd known then that one day she'd not only be face to face with it, but actually _treated_ by the thing...

"Uh... y-yeah. Hi, uh, Baymax."

"I will now scan you."

Mia tensed as a blue laser light trailed over her body. She was pretty certain that on Earth this would be a huge HIPAA violation.

"I got the crap kicked outta me," she told him. "That's about the long and short of it."

Blair flushed at his daughter's choice of words. "Now, Miandra. That wasn't necessary. After all, he's only trying to help you."

"Well, it's true."

Mia could tell Blair was not very pleased with her language, but she couldn't help it. She was in a lot of pain and in no mood to be dealing with such theatrics. She just wanted something to feel better and then sit down to a hot meal. She hadn't any idea how long ago it had been since she last ate. With the time difference between worlds, it could have been days for all she knew.

"Scan complete. You have suffered... multiple contusions and abrasions on your face and torso. No broken bones have been found." Ten illustrated faces ranging from happy to miserable appeared on Baymax's translucent chest. "On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?"

"What number will get me the best painkillers?" asked Mia, but a look from Blair made her quickly amend her reply. "A seven, I suppose, or an eight. I don't know. It hurts pretty bad, especially my ribs. You sure I didn't break one? Because it sure feels like I did."

"My scan indicated no broken bones, but several contusions. I suggest an application of antiseptic spray on the wounded areas and an analgesic."

"Yeah, if I could get some of that now, I think I'd be set. Uh, please."

Baymax lifted a finger and a small spray nozzle protruded from his fingertip. "Please close your eyes and hold still. Do not ingest the spray. If you ingest the spray, please contact a doctor."

Mia was tempted to ask what good he was if she needed to contact a doctor after their interaction, but she held her tongue. Instead, she did as he instructed and closed her eyes, holding still. The robot gave the abrasions along her face a quick, focused spray before lowering his hand.

"Please, uncover your torso for further treatment."

"Oh dear! Just a moment!" Blair turned away to give his daughter some privacy.

"Couldn't I just put it on myself?" Mia asked, blushing. But this didn't seem to be an option as the spray was coming directly from Baymax's finger. With Blair facing the other way, Mia lifted her shirt so Baymax could apply antiseptic to her abrasions.

"Hey, Miandra!" called Figment. "Your food's gonna get cold. If you don't want it, I'll eat it for you." As he descended from the bookshelf, he came to a halt in midair. "Miandra, whatchya-" Figment's eyes went wide and his scaly cheeks blushed. "Wow, wow, WOW!"

Mia yanked her shirt down. "FIGMENT!"

"Yikes!" He covered his eyes and spun around, only to fly headfirst into the bookshelf, sending several books cascading to the floor.

"Oooh! Figment, you've made a mess!" exclaimed Blair. "Figment, we must give Miandra her privacy when having her injuries checked. It's rude to gaze upon a young woman in a state of... uh... a state of... uhm... undress."

"It's fine," laughed Mia. "It's safe to look now."

Baymax lowered his finger. "All done. In my kit, there are... pain killers... in the storage slot. Recommended dosage is... two capsules... taken with water." He handed Mia a small sucker. "Have a lollipop."

"What am I, a kid?"

Baymax gazed expectantly at her.

"Um, yeah. All done. You can go now. Er..." What was she supposed to say again? "Oh yeah! I'm satisfied with my care."

The Baymax unit returned to its storage case and deflated until the kit closed upon itself. Mia found the pain killers and knocked back two tablets.

"I feel like it's just been one mess after another," Blair sighed as he plopped into his desk chair. "I'm not doing a very grand job as a father, am I?"

"Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

"I've already allowed danger to find you and sink its claws into you. Your mother would be furious with me, no doubt."

"To be fair," said Mia, "Gaston came for me on Earth, outside your jurisdiction. And, to your credit, the incident with the Tremaine sisters wasn't your fault. You warned me not to run off, but I didn't listen. Anyway, my mother is _hardly_ winning any mother-of-the-year awards now that I know what she..."

Mia trailed off at the look on her father's face. It was not stern, but sad, which was somehow more of a rebuke than if he'd actually chastised her. She sighed and shook her head.

"Look, I don't care what happened. I just want to get to know you." Her eyes shimmered as her voice teetered on the edge of tremulous. "You're my father, after all."

The Dreamfinder's smile returned, and the emotion behind it was immense. "That's all I want, too, Miandra. Now what do you say to eating some of that incredible gumbo while we _really_ get acquainted?"

"Yeah. I'm positively starving. And it smells amazing."

Figment carried two bowls over to them, smiling apologetically to Mia. This was more than enough to make up for it, especially as she began to dig into her gumbo.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed with her mouth full. "This really _is_ good!"

Blair took a generous spoonful himself. "It's the hot sauce that really ties it all together, you know," he said, dabbing his chin with a napkin before some could dribble into his beard. "Normally, I'm not much for spicy stuff, but without it, this gumbo would simply be inadequate."

"Yeah, I believe I've heard that somewhere before," said Mia, grinning.

Blair slurped another spoonful, chuckling softly. "I remember there were many nights when your mother and I were simply too tired to make dinner at the end of a long day. Instead, we ordered take-out from Tiana's place, or if we were really feeling up to it, we'd get dressed up and go out together. So many good times there. And your mother, she _loved_ hearing Louis play his trumpet."

The way he reminisced about he and her mother, it was clear that he was still very much in love with her. Mia swallowed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Here he was, still holding onto a faithful love for her mother, and her mother had taken their only child and left him all alone, then went on to marry another man. A good man, certainly. But still, it was hard watching Blair speak so fondly of a woman who'd abandoned and betrayed him. Mia felt it best not to voice her thoughts aloud and instead commented on Louis.

"That's the alligator, right? I almost shat a bri- er... that is, he threw me for quite a loop when I saw him tonight. Even though I know what to expect of this world, when I actually find myself face to face with things, it's... well, unexpected."

"You will no doubt encounter many more like him on your adventures. The majority of Dizgaia's anthropomorphic denizens have often proven themselves to be the kindest, most steadfast allies, and you will soon meet them. But you've had enough _adventure_ for one day. I'm not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night!"

Mia rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless. Although she'd only met her biological father today, he was already taking his role quite seriously.

"That reminds me, I need to learn more about you, dear! I barely know anything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies, your life on Earth... You have _so_ much to tell me!"

Mia blushed, embarrassed to share with him the tedious story that was her life. "I dunno. Anything I tell you is gonna be a pretty dull follow-up to everything _you've_ told _me_."

The Dreamfinder smiled the warmest and most genuine of loving smiles. He took Mia's hands in his and held them as he gazed fondly upon his daughter.

"Nonsense. Any father with a proud heart beating for his only beloved child would want to know every detail of her life from start to finish. I want to know, Miandra. Please." A look of seriousness came over his face. "Can you tell me what happened that night? The night you and your mother went to Earth? Or at least whatever your mother may have saw fit to tell you? Please, I must know."

Mia lowered her gaze , feeling sad and ashamed. "It's like I said, she didn't tell me much of anything. She told me you died. No details. Nothing. Even when I asked, she refused. But after you supposedly died, we had nowhere to go, so Mom took me and checked into a women's shelter." Unsure if he'd know what this was, she explained. "It's like a homeless shelter for women and young children. Many are women that have been abused or widowed, or just single mothers down on their luck. We lived there for about two years while Mom got a grant to go to college to study nursing."

"Nursing. A fine aspiration in life to follow. Still, quite a bit different than where she had been before."

"She decided she would never be in a position where she had to rely upon someone else to take care of her. She was determined to have a skill. But it still would've been quite a few more years before we left the shelter if it weren't for Da- er... that is... if it weren't for Edward."

Blair gave her an understanding smile. "It's alright, dear. Edward was, for all intents and purposes, your father in my absence. Do not be ashamed. Please, tell me about him. What did he do for you and your mother?"

Mia was relieved that Blair didn't take offense to her referring to Edward as her father. Still, she worried that each 'Dad' attributed to Edward might send a deep pain into the heart of the man who now sat before her. Nonetheless, she took his words at face value and plunged on.

"Well, Edward, my dad, he used to volunteer at the women's shelter. He served a lot of the meals and frequently brought supplies. He was a real philanthropist. He met my mom there and they really hit it off; though I'm told mom was a little hesitant to get involved. Now I understand why." She looked up at Blair, gazing into his eyes. "It was because you weren't dead after all. Just an entire world, a whole dimension away... and she still loved you, despite everything."

Blair forced himself to smile. It pained him to have lost out on so much time with Miandra, time he should've been there for her, but couldn't be; time Edward had spent with her. Nevertheless, Edward sounded like a man with a good heart, and Blair was happy to know that someone had loved them both and cared for them in his stead.

"Anyway, by the time I was two and a half, Mom and I moved in with Edward. Shortly after, they got married and he adopted me."

The news that Edward had officially adopted Mia, making him her legal father, brought a twinge of sorrow to Blair's heart, and yet Mia's next words made it hard to harbor anything but good will for the man.

"He was unable to have kids of his own, you see. So, it meant a lot to him to have... well, to have me. He was a good father... _is_ a good father."

"It sounds to me like you all helped each other and gave one another the wonderful gifts of family and love. Having you for a daughter..." Blair swallowed his rising emotion and hid it behind a smile. "Having you for a daughter must mean a lot to Edward."

Mia nodded, feeling too awkward to speak.

"There was something you said to me before," said Blair. "You compared Edward to myself. So, tell me, what is Edward like?"

"Well, he's... he's great. We're really close. A lot closer than Mom and I are, actually. He _gets_ me, you know? Mom, not so much." She cast a hasty glance at Blair. "Not that Mom and I don't get along _at all_ or anything. It's just that we don't really have the same passions or the dreams, particularly not when it comes to my future."

Blair had to admit, this surprised him. Beverly used to be so creative; artistic. She used to have such a wonderful imagination. Did she intentionally close off that avenue of thought after leaving Dizgaia?

"Anyway," Mia continued, "Dad is really imaginative. It sounds strange, but I think you and he would get along really well. In fact, he has very fond memories of the original Journey Into Imagination ride in Epcot. He always says, ' _It was never the same after they got rid of The Dreamfinder.'_ "

Blair gave his beard a thoughtful stroke. He was aware of the existence of the Epcot attraction that bore his likeness. Flynn had told him all about it; though, he'd never had the pleasure of experiencing it himself. Flynn also mentioned to him that the Disney company made the decision to eliminate the attraction. He had to admit he found this revelation somewhat concerning. Also curious was the fact that the ride was discontinued shortly after Beverly had taken Mia to Earth.

"He's a dreamer stuck in a mundane career," Mia said of Edward. "I guess his parents pushed him too hard to succeed when he was a kid. But he never lost his imaginative flair. There were ways he parented me that were often a point of contention between he and Mom. She'd argue with him, then he'd say something inspiring or profound, and she would sort of sigh sadly and say, 'Sometimes you remind me so much of my first husband.' I don't think they realized I was privy to those conversations, but I often listened in. In those moments, Dad would ask about you. He really wanted to know, but she always insisted that she couldn't tell him. He never understood why. I didn't understand why either. But now... now I do."

"So, it would seem Edward and I share similar ideals. He sounds like a..." Blair swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in his throat, "... like a wonderful father. It's a shame your mother felt she couldn't be honest with him, or with you. But it certainly sounds like Edward loves you and your mother very, very much. And for that, I'm pleased."

It was nothing short of impressive. Blarion Mercurial, though he had every right to be upset and envious, never spoke a word or gave away so much as an expression of jealousy or contempt for the man who'd become his daughter's legal father in his stead. It was this which stoked the flames of Mia's growing love for her biological father. Wanting to further assure him that her adoptive father was worthy of being so, Mia told Blair something about her father that she knew he'd appreciate.

"Dad's the one responsible for my love of stories," she explained. "He used to read to me before bed every night. Hans Christian Andersen, The Brothers Grimm, and James Barrie - just to name a few," she said, giving Blair a knowing look. "And he's a huge Disney nut. Because of him, I've seen pretty much every Disney movie there is to see. I guess it came in handy, given the circumstances. Anyway, he encouraged me and helped me cultivate my imagination, and so when I got older, I decided I wanted to either be an artist or a novelist."

"Artist? Novelist?" asked Blair, his eyes lighting up. "Goodness! Why that's marvelous, dear! Edward has done a splendid job helping your imagination to grow if those are your fields of interest. With a spark as bright as yours, I have no doubt that you could succeed in either field!"

Mia blushed at his praise. "Yeah, well, I suppose it's not quite the same as being an Imagineer. I'm rubbish at math, and science isn't really my forte either. So the 'ineer' part escapes me, but at least I have plenty of the 'imag' part going for me."

"Having a wonderful mind isn't all math and science, dear. Sometimes the cleverest people are the ones who merely craft amazing concepts. That's what having an imagination is all about. I'm very pleased that you've found an outlet for your creative endeavors. In fact, I should love to see a sample of your writings or artistry one day."

"Oh, uh, well, I _do_ have some of my stuff with me in my bag over there," she said, indicating her backpack, which was currently taking up space in the corner of the room . "Though, uh, I don't really show my stories to anyone except my Dad... that is, until he sneakily sent some off to Disney."

"Well, then, I should be included in that, right? After all, I _am_ your father." Blair went for Mia's bag, but she quickly rushed past him and intercepted it.

Blair frowned, hurt that she would deny him such a pleasure. "Please... I'd really love to see them."

"L-Look, don't take it personally. It's just... I'm not very confident in my skills yet, especially after everything that's happened. Besides, most of it is unfinished work anyway. If you really do insist upon reading them, I'd at least like to complete them first."

"Oh, I suppose," said Blair with a pout.

"I'll gladly show you my sketchbook, though. If you're interested, that is."

"Are you kidding? Of course I'm interested! Let's see it!"

Mia opened her sketchbook, but before she could flip to the beginning, Figment was already hovering at her shoulder, taking a peek.

"Wow, wow, wow! Where are their clothes?"

"Hey!" Mia exclaimed, snapping the sketchbook shut. "Don't be nosy." She cast an embarrassed glance at Blair. "It's nothing risqué," she assured him. "It's just that I'm still a bit of a novice artist. I draw people naked before I design their clothes... ya know, for form and proportion and stuff, so the more recent sketches aren't quite finished. We'll start at the _front_ ," she said, shooting Figment a small glare.

"I understand, my dear," said Blair with an amused chuckle. "That's typical of many artists." He extended his hand. "May I...?"

Reluctantly, Mia handed it over. "Don't judge them too harshly," she begged. "I'm more of a writer than an artist, but the sketches help me visualize the characters and places I write about. My dad likes them rather a lot, but I think he's biased."

She brought her knees up to her chest and nibbled nervously upon her fingernails as Blair browsed her sketchbook. She remembered how nervous she'd been over peer reviews in college art classes. And now, to think someone with the moniker of _The Dreamfinder_ was looking through her imaginative scribbles!

Blair flipped through her sketchbook with a keen hunger. In his opinion, her sketches were beautiful and filled to the brim with imagination.

"Miandra, dearest, you sell yourself so short! These are positively wonderful! So much time, effort, and love has gone into these. And these are but sketches! You have much potential here, I think."

Mia positively lit up when he complimented her sketches. In fact, Blair could see it; quite suddenly her spark brightened almost blindingly, like a supernova just before the explosion. Mia's spark could illuminate an entire city. Yes! This was her spark at its brightest, at its most powerful. This was where he wanted it to be. Where it was meant to be. And if he could help her cultivate it, the possibilities were endless.

"Is there a sketch that has particular significance? One that you feel is near and dear to you?"

Mia tilted her head thoughtfully. Until now, she hadn't ever considered it, but quite suddenly she had an epiphany. "Oh. Oh my God! I think... Yes. Oh wow, this is... this is crazy!" She took her sketchbook back and was suddenly flipping through it with almost furious speed. "That story you told me about how mom and I left this world? This is going to sound insane, but I think I must've somehow remembered it in the deepest part of my subconscious. You see..." She found the page she was searching for and then, slowly, as though in a dream, she handed it back to him.

This was no mere sketch. This was a fully realized piece of art in full shading and color. And the content was most surprising. At the center of the page was a mirror. On one side of the mirror was dreary darkness, and on the other side a world of beauty and light. On the side of darkness stood a small child in a pink dress, her hand pressed against the glass. On the side of color and light was the silhouette of a man reaching out to her. Though the details of the figure were vague, his silhouette clearly suggested a top hat and a long jacket with coattails. The outstretched fingers of a gloved hand sought the tiny hand pressed on the other side of the glass.

Blair looked up from the sketchbook and studied his daughter's face. They shared the same eyes, right down to the tears welling up in them.

"Miandra," he said, his voice tremulous.

"That particular drawing has gone through several drafts before that final one. Believe it or not, I was only six years old when I made the first attempt at that drawing. As such, the first draft was pretty rough, but the idea was still there. It took me 13 years to finish it. Bit by bit, little by little, over time it gradually became what it is today. Take a wild guess as to when I finished it."

Blair swallowed, willing himself, unsuccessfully, to speak steadily. "W-Was it..."

"Two days ago," she answered for him. "Two days before I went through the Rainbow Corridor with Flynn. I don't know why it took me so long or why it meant so much to me to make it perfect. It was never quite like that with my other drawings. It's uncanny."

"The mind truly is the most remarkable thing," said Blair, gazing at the picture in awe. "Despite all our efforts, we still know so little about how it works. That's as true on our world as it is on yours. This, Miandra, is absolutely amazing. There is so much strong emotion in this drawing. It brings it out in me. I can feel it like it was just yesterday." He placed his hand against her cheek, his thumb wiping away one of her tears. "When I lost you, I was certain I'd lost my whole world. I could never blame Beverly for the decision she made. She made it as a worried mother. I can't resent her for doing it. But it still hurt. And despite having support all around me, I still felt so alone."

Figment fluttered onto his creator's lap. "You had me, Dreamfinder. You always had me."

"Right you are, Figment," said Blair, smiling through his tears. "You were all I had. Before then, you were but a silent guardian. But in my loneliness, I granted you the gift of a voice."

This aligned with what Naveen and Tiana said earlier, and now, here it was. Figment hadn't simply learned to talk; Blair had given him a voice after Beverly had taken Mia and left him... to keep him from being lonely. Mia wasn't sure she could handle this knowledge. It felt like her heart was breaking.

"It made me so happy that you did," said Figment, nuzzling against Blair's bearded cheek. "I'll always be here for as long as you need me!" He lifted his scaly head to gaze at Mia. "For _both_ of you!"

This was all just too much. Mia couldn't resist. She threw herself into Blair's arms, hugging Figment between them. Figment happily nuzzled against them both, letting out a contented little sigh. Blair held his daughter in a way he'd never had the chance to before. It was a warm embrace, filled with joy and love and just a tiny bit of sorrow for time lost.

"I love you so much, my darling Miandra" said Blair, caressing her hair tenderly. "I don't wish to lose you. Never ever again." He hesitated as a rather frightening thought crossed his mind. "But I'm worried," he said. "Now that you're here, and you've falling under the Dark Ones' radar, is it too dangerous for you to be here? Would you, perhaps, be better off returning to Earth?"

Mia pulled away from him, her expression one of shock and hurt. "What? Why bring that up _now_? I only just arrived on this amazing world, a place I could never even _dream_ might have existed, a world of magic and adventure, a place that was once my home, a place that _should_ have been my home, and now you're suggesting I should go back to Earth? How can you even ask that of me? How could anyone ask that of _anyone_ in a similar situation?"

"Miandra, please don't be angry," he pleaded in a tone he hoped was soothing. "I'm not trying to send you away. I'm just so afraid of losing you. I just want to know that we're making the right choice here; the responsible choice. This world is dangerous as well as wonderful, especially for you, being who and what you are. I just want to make sure, as your father, that I'm doing the right thing."

"You _are_ doing the right thing!" Mia insisted. "I mean, look at it this way - Gaston and Maleficent's goons showed up in _my_ world and came after me _there_ , before I knew a thing about this world, or you, or _anything_. And if Flynn hadn't shown up, Gaston probably would've... Well, I don't know what he wanted to do, but he would've gotten away with it. Doesn't that suggest I'm in danger no matter which world I'm in?"

"She's got you there, Dreamfinder," Figment piped in.

"Perhaps she does," Blair admitted. "After all, we have many powerful allies here, but Earth is not so well equipped to stand against dark magic. Miandra may well be safer here on Dizgaia than anywhere else." But even to his own ears it sounded like he was defending his selfish desire to keep his daughter here with him and never let her go. "But surely your mother must be worried sick about--"

"I've told you before," Mia interrupted. "My mother isn't winning any mother-of-the-year awards any time soon. I'm not worried about what she thinks. At least not right now. And as my _father_ , you have every right to keep me here without feeling obligated to send me back to my mother, especially after what happened all those years ago."

"Miandra, I really wish you wouldn't harbor such ill feelings towards your mother."

"Besides," Mia pressed on, ignoring his comment. "You told me earlier that when Mom first tried to leave, you begged her to stay. You said you told her that you would protect us. Am I wrong? Has that changed?"

Blair's eyes glistened with tears, but this time he did not let them fall. Instead, he put on a determined expression. "No. No, you are _not_ wrong. That has _not_ changed."

"Yeah, that's right!" said Figment. "Besides, if Miandra needs help, she's got me!" He stood like a brave superhero, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips.

"You're right," laughed Blair. "You're _both_ right. After all, Dizgaia is your home, Miandra. And you... you belong home."

"That's all I wanted to hear you say," said Mia, her lips a smile and her eyes full of tears. "It's okay to be selfish. After all that's happened, after losing us, you have every right to be selfish. As your daughter, I _want_ you to be selfish. I _want_ you to want me here. I want you to ask me to stay." She frowned, suddenly worried. "Won't you?"

With a determined nod, Blair knelt down on one knee in front of his daughter. He took her hands in his and gazed up at her with all the love of a smitten father. "Miandra, my wonderful daughter... won't you _please_ share this magnificent world with me?"

It seemed Blarion Mercurial was quite the romantic. Mia took her lower lip between her teeth to suppress the ridiculous smile that threatened to spread across her face. But it was to no avail. The smile came nonetheless, and with it, a nod.

"Yes, I most definitely will. So long as you promise to show me as much of it as feasibly possible. The Imagination Institute is nice, but I want to see _so_ much more! I want to see the entire world! Will you take me?"

With a look like that, how could he possibly refuse her? How long had he yearned to see such an expression of excitement and admiration on the face of the young daughter who was stolen from him? And here she was, like a small, adorable child on their birthday, chomping at the bit for an adventure with her long-lost father. It was impossible to refuse her.

"I will, Miandra. I promise. You deserve to see everything I can possibly show you. I will say this, though - I'm very curious about these stories you've written. I think the first adventure I'd like to take is a journey into _your_ imagination," he said, giving her forehead a gentle poke with his finger. "Tell me, Miandra... You attested that you're more of a writer than an artist, and yet it is your writings and not your art that you're so afraid to show me. Why is that, I wonder?"

Mia lowered her gaze, blushing as she tucked some wayward hair behind her ear. "Well, as contradictory as it sounds, I guess it's because what I want most is to be a novelist. I love drawing and painting, but my art is only ancillary to what I enjoy most, which is writing. With art, if it isn't any good, I can easily dismiss any critics and say, 'Well, I'm not really an artist. I only dapple.' But with my stories, if someone doesn't like them, if they're not good enough... well, that means _I'm_ not good enough. It's who I am and it's what I do. So, if I'm not good at what I want to do most of all, my dreams are shattered and I've got nothing." Mia sighed as she gazed up at her father. "I don't suppose that makes any sense?"

"Actually, Miandra, it makes perfect sense. And the fact that you were able to articulate that to me so well proves to me that you possess far more talent than you give yourself credit for."

"The ability to speak doesn't necessarily denote good writing talent, or vice versa," she mumbled.

"Perhaps you're right, but you're forgetting one very important thing."

"What's that?"

"Your spark, dear."

"Yes... my spark, which I conveniently can't see."

"But _I_ can."

"Also convenient."

"Do you think I'd lie to you, Miandra?" asked Blair, looking hurt.

Mia ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "No, of course not. It's just... I don't know. I guess I don't have a lot of confidence in my abilities, spark or no spark."

"Perhaps in time that will change," said Blair with a warm smile. "After all, I do so wish to read my daughter's work someday."

"I'm sorry," she said, hanging her head shamefully. "I know you want to, and you deserve to. But I guess I'm just not ready for that yet. Maybe once I finish them and I'm absolutely sure I've got them down right, maybe then."

Blair nodded, still smiling, but Mia could see the pain in his smile. She wondered if she hurt his feelings. However, for Blair, the pain rested mostly upon the idea that there may have been people or circumstances in his daughter's life that discouraged her to the point of lacking the confidence to share her precious stories with others. But if he had his way, Dizgaia would become a place where Mia's talents and passions would flourish, and perhaps her confidence would improve along the way. But for now, he would not push the issue.

Figment had been unusually quiet for a while. Mia glanced down to see that he had curled up on the chaise lounge and fallen asleep with his head in her lap. Mia smiled as she gently stroked him.

"So, you created Figment for me. That's gotta be the coolest gift anyone's ever given me." Her lips quirked into a grin as she gazed up at her father. "So, can I keep him, or has the statute of limitations passed on that?"

Blair laughed. "He's yours, Miandra. Just as he was so many years ago. Though we'll have to see about forming an Imagination Bond between the two of you. That way you can energize him and heal him just as I can, in case there's ever a time where I'm not with you, which I'm sure is bound to happen sooner or later."

An Imagination Bond; a way for her to energize Figment and heal him, and perhaps turn him into a giant fire-breathing monster or something else. That sounded pretty cool. To think she could have her own pet dragon whom she could power up with her imagination alone! Though, the way the Dreamfinder spoke, it sounded like it might be a bit of a process, not to mention Mia had yet to display any sort of magical talent like her father. Perhaps her abilities would manifest in time.

"I think Figment has the right idea," said Blair smiling down at his small reptilian friend. "You should get some sleep, Miandra. You've had quite the trying day and we're meeting with the princesses tomorrow."

"The princesses? _Really?_ " Mia's eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of meeting Cinderella and Snow White. "Oh, but I don't have anything appropriate to wear." She gazed down at her skinny jeans, camisole and denim jacket. They definitely didn't seem like the sort of clothes one ought to wear when being presented to royalty.

"I'm sure we can find something for you before we meet with them tomorrow. But for now, get some rest, dear."

Mia snuggled down onto the chaise lounge, pulling Figment into her arms. Now that she thought about it, she _was_ feeling pretty tired, and she still had a lingering soreness. Perhaps an early bedtime really was for the best.

Blair took off her boots and set them on the floor. Then, he covered her with a small throw blanket, tucking her in. How many nights had gone by, nights that he should have been tucking his little girl into bed with a goodnight kiss, nights that he had missed out on? He hated to think about it. But now he was getting a second chance at being a father. To him, it didn't matter that Mia was a teenager on the cusp of her 20th year. He would take every opportunity to dote on her the way he should have, had she not been taken from him.

Hoping he wasn't pushing his boundaries, Blair leaned down and kissed his daughter on the forehead. But Mia didn't push him away. She merely giggled as his beard tickled her face.

"Rest well, dearest. Dream big, won't you?"

"I'm not sure I can dream anything bigger than all this," Mia replied, gesturing lazily with one arm. "But..." She yawned. "I'll try."

Blair smiled a warm, eye-crinkling smile . This was all he'd ever wanted - his daughter home, safe and happy. With Miandra returned to him, perhaps he, too, would dream bigger and better than ever.

~~~

Blair worked quietly at his desk for the better part of an hour, keeping himself occupied until he was certain Miandra was asleep. When her soft snores began to mingle with Figment's, he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Miandra, dear?"

No answer. Quite certain she was asleep, The Dreamfinder stole across the room to her backpack. Carefully, and oh so quietly, he pulled out her portfolio. It was filled with both finished and unfinished manuscripts. Perhaps he was out of line. It was, admittedly, a dishonest and sneaky move on his part. But he simply couldn't help himself. Despite everything Miandra had told him, he felt there was still so little he knew about his daughter.

Once upon a time, the thought of having children seemed so foreign to him, unlikely, even. But then he met Beverly and they had Miandra, whose spark was so bright the day of her birth that the hospital had practically radiated with iridescent light. Blair expected great things of Miandra, but he'd never gotten the chance to test her. Now was the time to see the fruits of her labors; the products of someone with so bright a spark.

He was not disappointed. He found himself deeply enthralled with each tale. Filled with adventure and fantasy, many of the stories were also love stories. This made Blair wonder - did Miandra have much experience in the way of romance?

The Dreamfinder glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping daughter. The last time he'd seen her she was but an infant. Now, she was a young woman. Still, it was difficult and a little unnerving for him, as her father, to imagine his little girl in an adventurous romance, or worse yet, in the throes of passion in the manner in which the heroines of her stories seemed to find themselves. And yet, he couldn't help being curious.

Her depictions of such romances were very idealized. It seemed as though she'd been heavily influenced by other tales she may have grown up with as a child, stories of princes and princesses and fairytale romances; engaging and beautiful, but not indicative of real life. It may be safe to assume Miandra hadn't so much as a first kiss yet.

Blair simultaneously felt relief and worry. Dizgaia was a beautiful, wonderful, magical place, particularly where romance was concerned. But it was not quite the way the Disney movies depicted it. There was plenty of heartache to be found, and romance was not as idealistic as the films and fairytales would have one believe.

Dizgaia could instill unrealistic expectations in Miandra. She could be taken in by a charlatan, not so unlike Snow and Cindy were in their youth; or, equally awful, she could have her heart broken. Blair hoped he would never see the day. Still, what was the harm, ultimately, in a young woman's romantic fantasies? It was perfectly natural.

Blair spent the better part of the night reading through Miandra's stories. He wished he could tell her that she needn't lament any perceived shortcomings. As far as he could see, her work was nearly flawless. Much as it hurt to know someone else had cared for Miandra in his stead, Blair had to hand it to her adopted father; he had done a wonderful job raising her.

A brilliant spark wasn't everything. After all, one must cultivate it. And to do so, one needed encouragement. Edward Baxter had clearly provided that encouragement. Blair was happy to see Miandra's spark had not gone to waste, thanks to her adopted father. However, her lack of confidence was something that needed tending.

With the way Miandra spoke of Edward, Blair knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had never done anything to discourage her. But it is often not within a parent's capacity to protect their child from those who might hurt their confidence. In this case, outside forces had been at work, and it wasn't just Lady Tremaine posing as her college professor who'd done it.

Certainly, that had been the final nail in the confidence coffin. But even though Miandra now knew the truth about the college professor who'd rebuked her work, she still hadn't the confidence to share it with him. In fact, by her own admission, she never shared her work with anyone beyond her adopted father. Perhaps a friend, a fellow student, a teacher, or a combination of people or things had aided in this attack on her confidence. But if Blair had his way, that would all soon change.

He continued to read late into the night, perhaps later than he'd originally intended. But he found Miandra's stories far too compelling to put down. It wasn't simply because it was the work of his daughter. True, as a father, he couldn't be prouder. But as a dreamer, he was beyond impressed with the creative imaginings of Miandra's mind.

Her ability to conceptualize and craft characters and worlds beyond the wildest dreams of a normal Earth girl spoke to her unique heritage. Her spark was even brighter than he'd originally thought. He had once speculated that his baby girl could grow up to be an Imagineer, but that was because he'd never considered the other possibility - that she could be the next Dreamfinder.


	10. Flynn

When Mia next awoke it could have been an hour or several hours later; she wasn't certain as she'd lost all sense of time since arriving on Dizgaia. Blair was slumped over his desk, fast asleep with his head buried in his arms, leading her to suspect she'd been asleep for a good while. Mia supposed she ought to go back to sleep, but now that she was awake she found she was completely wired. But what else should she expect, considering that not long ago she'd arrived in a magical world, a world just waiting to be explored?

Three things kept her from rushing headlong into the outdoors and exploring for herself – the late hour, her father's warning of the Dark Ones who sought her, and the memory of the beating she'd taken at the hands of the Tremaine sisters. Still, she had to do _something_ to burn off the excess energy, and so, after draping a throw blanket over Blair, she quietly tip-toed out of his office and into the corridor beyond.

As expected, all was quiet in the Imagination Institute. The Imagineers likely went home in the evening, which reminded her of the talk she needed to have with her father. But she'd save that for tomorrow. In the meantime, Mia was content to stretch her legs and go up to the atrium to admire the cityscape. She bet it was positively breathtaking at night.

As she traveled further through the pristine corridors, she began to hear music which gradually grew louder until Mia realized that what she was hearing was _Sweet Dreams Are Made of This_ by The Eurythmics, and it was coming from Flynn's office. Well, that was no surprise.

It seemed Flynn was working late tonight, assuming it was _work_ he was actually doing. Now that Mia thought of it, she'd never gotten the chance to properly thank him for helping her. After fainting and meeting her long-lost father, she'd nearly forgotten about her rescuer. Perhaps it was time to remedy that.

Hoping she wasn't interrupting anything too important, Mia rapped upon the door. Flynn didn't answer, but he had to be in there. After all, he surely wouldn't leave the music playing while he was away, would he?

_Hmm..._

Perhaps that was the problem. He couldn't hear her knocking over the insanely loud music. It was a wonder he could concentrate with it blaring so loud.

_Maybe I should come back later,_ she thought.

But after a moment of further contemplation, Mia decided she really wanted to see him again and simply could not wait. There was a panel beneath his holographic nameplate. She pressed her fingers against it, not really expecting it to respond to her touch and rather assuming it would be locked. To her surprise, the door slid open. Mia hesitated a moment, then stepped inside.

Flynn was sitting at his computer with his back to her. He hadn't even heard her come in. Mia took a moment to admire her surroundings. Flynn's lab was not at all like her father's office. In fact, it was quite the hot pad, with lots of science-y stuff as well as '80s pop culture for décor. She didn't entirely disapprove. There was a mini fridge covered in magnets, a single bookshelf with several thick, old looking books on it, and a console that held the Tron identity disk. Flynn was typing away at his keyboard, occasionally pausing to manipulate a holographic model with his hands. The model appeared to be some sort of vehicle.

"CLU, run diagnostic test. Check for any sort of extraneous energy output and aerodynamic resistance."

From the computer, a somewhat stiff, robotic voice replied, "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"We gotta work the bugs out of this, pronto!"

"Yes, sir. I know, sir."

Flynn grabbed a can of soda and sucked it down through a straw. He still hadn't noticed Mia, which wasn't any wonder, as the stereo's huge woofers continued to blare '80s synthpop music throughout the room. Mia reached for the volume dial on the stereo and turned the music down.

"Spoiler alert," she said when the volume was finally low enough for her to be heard. "CLU turns evil and tries to kill your son. I'd be careful if I were you."

Flynn spun around in his swivel chair. "Miandra!" He smiled at the sight of her, but then frowned, considering her words. "CLU," he said, glancing over at his computer. "You wouldn't turn evil and try to kill my son, would you?"

"You don't have a son, sir."

"That's right. Get back to that diagnostic, huh? Chop chop."

"Yes, sir."

"See? CLU doesn't have an evil circuit in his whole board." Flynn stood and walked towards her. "Though I can't say the same for those thuggish bimbos who went after you. First time out and about in Main Street and you get mugged by the Tremaine sisters? That's a bummer, man." He reached up a hand and gently traced the bruise on her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Mia blushed and averted her gaze. She could feel her heart pounding. What was it about the simple touch of his fingers to her cheek that set her body afire?

"Bad news certainly travels fast around here," she muttered embarrassedly. "Anyway, I'm fine. Just a bit sore. So, um, I'm not interrupting anything too important, am I? If so, I can go."

"No, no. Don't go! Nothing I'm doing is so important that I can't put it on hold for a visit from The Dreamfinder's daughter."

"It's gonna take some getting used to being famous," Mia said, chuckling awkwardly and tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

Flynn crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his work station, smiling at her. "So, what brings you to _my_ little portion of heaven at this ungodly hour?"

Mia wandered slowly about the office, trailing her hand over the different objects that caught her attention. She didn't know why she was suddenly so bashful around him. After everything that happened, she ought to be able to chat easily with him.

"Oh, um, I just wanted to... Well, I realized I hadn't properly, you know, thanked you for everything you did for me back in Disney World. You saved me from Gaston and those goon things. With all that happened, I just never got the chance. And I suppose I may have been kinda difficult in the beginning – you know, not knowing who you were and what was going on and all."

God, she was rambling like a shy little school girl with a crush. _Did_ she have a crush on Flynn? No, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

"Uh, so yeah, in short..." She finally managed to look at him, a light blush visible on her cheeks. "Thank you."

"Well, I mean, _Tron_ did most of the saving, really," he said, his eyes flicking to the glowing disc which was currently plugged into a charging dock.

Mia smiled as she trailed her finger along the disc, perhaps more sensually than she intended. "Well, then I suppose I should thank Tron..."

Flynn swallowed and quickly added, "Though I suppose getting away from the Goons _was_ all me. So, I guess, in short, you're welcome." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Now that they'd gotten that out of the way, he wasn't really sure what to say to her, but he also didn't want her to leave. "Uh, you thirsty? Help yourself to whatever's in there," he said, nodding to the mini fridge.

"Sure." Mia went to the fridge and took out a soda. She didn't recognize it as any brand she was familiar with, but after taking a tentative sip, she determined that it wasn't all that different from Coke or Pepsi on Earth.

"So," said Flynn, "I'm sure Professor Mercurial has filled in all the blanks by now. How're you taking it? Like, how do ya' feel about all this?"

"Well, let's see... I was attacked by extra-dimensional beings, I just met my biological father whom I thought was dead, and I found out that I'm actually from a magical fairytale world all in one day. Needless to say, it's been a lot to take in. As they might've said in the '80s, 'this is pretty heavy, man.' But all things considered..." She took a sip of soda and grinned. "It's pretty freakin' awesome."

"Well, I'm glad you're digging it. While Earth has plenty of good stuff to offer – as you can see, I'm a pretty big fan of your pop culture – Dizgaia is out of sight, man. But I'm sure you'll see all that for yourself in time."

Mia giggled. While people on Earth might consider him a dork who couldn't let go of the past, Mia rather liked the way Flynn talked. It was kind of cute.

Flynn tilted his head, studying her closely. Bruises aside, Miandra was a good-looking kid. And when she was excited, when she smiled, that's when she really lit up.

"So, you, uh, interested in possibly becoming an Imagineer, too?"

Mia shook her head, smiling embarrassedly. "I'm not so sure about that. It's like I told Blair... er... my father earlier; I've got the 'imag' part down pretty well, but not so much the 'ineer.'"

She flushed. That had sounded a lot funnier when she'd said it to the Dreamfinder. Now, saying it to the eminently cool Kevin Flynn, it sounded stupid.

"Um, that is to say, math and science-y stuff has never been my strong suit." She averted her gaze and took a long sip from her soda.

"So then, what _do_ you do?"

"I write and draw," she mumbled, hoping he wouldn't ask to see her work.

"Yeah?" he asked, his mouth quirking. Only now did Mia notice he had cute little dimples. "That sounds pretty cool. Perhaps you could take after your father and become a dreamfinder."

Mia laughed. "Yeah, right. I mean, he did say he thought he could teach me to do what he does, but I think he's a little overly ambitious. I'm just an ordinary girl in extraordinary circumstances."

"Hey, if the Dreamfinder says you can be a dreamfinder, too, you better believe it's possible. Man, that's every Imagineer's dream come true right there. I'd give all my hard work, all my designing and research, just to be able to dream things into reality. But, alas, my spark just ain't that bright. You, on the other hand..."

Flynn grabbed his phone from the desk and opened up an app before turning the screen towards her. Mia saw a picture of herself from inside the American Adventure Lounge in Epcot, but nothing about it was a normal picture, for surrounding her was an incredible, otherworldly glow with flecks of rainbow light sparking through it.

" _You_ have a _wild_ spark, lil' lady!"

Mia's eyes widened and she leaned closer. "Woah! So that's it? That's what it looks like? My spark? It's amazing!" Then, something occurred to her. "Hey! Why do you have a picture of me on your phone?" she demanded, fixing him with an accusing glare.

"H-Hey! It's nothing like _that!_ It's not for any weird reason. I was just curious. Out of that whole bunch in that Disney lounge, you were the only one who stood out. The others had something, but you... I saw you and I could just sort of sense something was special about you. You gave off this vibe, man. I just had to know. So, I checked your spark. That's what the app is for. But your dad sees them without the use of any device. He can see that light around you with his own eyes. Besides," he said, scrolling through pictures on his phone, "I have spark pics of everyone here at the institute."

He continued to scroll through his phone, showing her pictures of all the different people she'd seen at the institute that day, all with varying degrees of sparks. They came across a picture of a scientist who was glaring wide-eyed at the camera with his pinky jammed up his nose. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated someone catching him in the act.

"Hey, isn't that that Dr. Channing guy? His finger's like halfway up his nose!" Mia laughed so hard she nearly spat out her soda.

"Yeah," said Flynn, laughing along with her. "That's one of my favorites, too. There's just one person I can't get a picture of." He pulled up a final picture, one which looked digitally distorted like several multicolored pixels had a stroke. "That's your dad. He disrupts the camera every single time I try to take his picture. It can't be done, man."

"Wow. That's one hell of a spark."

"You're telling me, kid."

"So why keep them? Why keep _mine_?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze at him. "You gonna delete that or what... man?" she added, throwing some of his own lingo at him.

Flynn raised his hands defensively. "Settle down, now. Settle down. Your dad wants pictures of people's sparks so we can study them, or see if our sparks brighten or dim over time. Hell, _everyone's_ seen that picture of Dr. Channing. But it's also part of my Earth assignment. I look for potential Imagineers on Earth."

"Ambassadors, you mean?"

"Those too," said Flynn, nodding. "Your dad didn't waste any time filling you in, that's for sure. Anyway, that's what I was doing there."

Mia supposed she should be mollified by his explanation for keeping her picture, but she was surprised to find that she was actually a little disappointed.

_What, Mia? Did you_ want _him to keep your picture for some other unsavory reason? Don't be an idiot._

"When those Disney execs turned you away, I was gonna offer you a chance to come here, calmly. I planned to have a civil conversation and do my best to explain everything before bringing you here, but Gaston got to you first."

Mia shivered. Despite his hunky looks, Gaston was an even more frightening and formidable man than the film gave him credit for. She hoped never to cross paths with him again.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I would've freaked out either way," she admitted. "And I found out why those Disney guys turned me down. My English professor from college who lied and told them I got kicked out for plagiarism was Lady Tremaine. Back on Earth I knew her as Professor Tremblay. I dropped out of college because of her." She sighed and shook her head regretfully. "It seems like those jerks have been trying to screw me over long before my trip to Disney World."

"That's a real load, man! Those guys are just afraid of that big ol' spark of yours. But you're here now. You're safe with us. If that creep, Gaston, comes after you again, Tron and I will show him what happens to meatheads who don't leave cute girls alone."

Flynn didn't seem to realize what he'd just said, but Mia certainly did. She tried not to blush, but it was a futile effort. At least now she knew the feeling was mutual.

"Besides," said Flynn, gazing distractedly across the room. "I think Tron was itching for a fight. Thanks to you, he got his first true test run. We've been working on his program for a while. I'd say it was a successful test run, wouldn't you?"

The distant look on his face made Mia feel like he was addressing someone else other than her. She followed his gaze to a framed photo on the bookshelf.

"Oh! You framed a picture of Tron?"

She went to the shelf and picked it up for a closer look. The man in the picture was the spitting image of Tron. Mia didn't see how it could possibly be anyone else. However, he wasn't in the same bodysuit with glowing circuits. Plus, his skin wasn't gray, his eyes weren't glowing, and he wore glasses and a button-down shirt with disheveled hair.

"What is he wearing? Isn't Tron just a program? Why frame a photo of him?"

Flynn joined Mia in front of the photo, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah... That's actually not Tron. That's my brother, or half-brother, to be accurate. Alan. Alan Bradley, Tron's _real_ creator."

"Oh yeah! That's right. Sorry. It's been a long time since I've watched the movie. The film is called _Tron,_ but it focuses on you so much it's easy to forget you weren't the one who created him." She hesitated, consulting her memory. "But wait a minute... I thought Alan Bradley was just a friend or an acquaintance in the movie. He was like dating Flynn's... er... that is, _your_ ex-girlfriend or something. I suppose that's something the movie got wrong, huh?"

"That film's a fun piece of fiction, but it's a real heap when it comes to being reflective of my real life. It got a couple small details right, but really, it's nowhere close to being based on a true story. But I get it, fiction is way more fun than the truth."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's about the same as what everyone else has been telling me," said Mia thinking back to her father's words. _This_ is _that In Between._ "So what's the real story? Your story, I mean. That is, if you don't mind telling me."

Flynn took the picture from her, smiling down at it fondly. "Alan and I were half-brothers, but we were pretty darn close, man. We loved developing our projects together and bouncing ideas off one another. Man, we were a helluva team. But while I was mostly into developing programs for entertainment and designing things for fun, Alan... Alan wanted to change the world. He wanted to protect it. That's why he started developing Tron."

"You speak of him in the past tense," she said softly. "Did he... Is he not around anymore?"

Flynn nodded, setting the picture frame back down on the shelf and walking away from it. "Alan died a few years ago. We were overseas, bridging the gaps between kingdoms, making it possible to go from one kingdom to another in the blink of an eye. But Alan got caught in the middle of something that he had no business being involved in. He was killed... killed trying to help people."

"Oh God. Flynn, I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Before he died, he made me promise one thing – that I'd help people in this world, help them by finishing Tron." Flynn's eyes fell upon the glowing disk. "Tron is Alan's legacy. Alan always wanted to save people who couldn't save themselves. That's why I designed Tron to look like Alan, to sound like Alan. Maybe it's a little screwed up to fashion an A.I. to resemble your dead brother, but it was the only thing I could think to do for Alan's memory."

Mia joined him in front of Tron's disk. "It's not screwed up at all," she said. "And I think Alan would be very proud. After all, Tron saved me. So, in a way, so did Alan... _and_ you. You _both_ did." She smiled sweetly up at him. "You're already doing exactly what Alan wanted you to do."

Flynn gazed down at Mia and smiled at her kind words. And speaking of smiles, that smile of hers...That smile could make a man do anything. He averted his gaze and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Well, heh... not bad for a guy who just wanted to design cool bikes and make video games, huh?"

"There's nothing wrong with that. People like cool bikes and video games. They make people happy. Making people happy isn't something to be ashamed of. I think it's great!"

Flynn smiled at her. The Dreamfinder's daughter; she wasn't much like he would have expected. But then, what did he expect? For her to be jolly and bearded like her father? To go around dressed like him? After all, this girl didn't share her life with her father. She was raised far away.

"What about you?" he asked, giving her a little nudge. "Do _you_ like video games?"

Mia shrugged and smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Who doesn't like video games? Why do you ask? Want me to beta test some for you?" She held her hands in front of her as though she were holding a controller of some sort as she mimicked playing a video game, wiggling her shoulders back and forth in an unnecessary but no less adorable fashion.

Flynn chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Not exactly, but it might be nice to show off a little more of my work. Granted, I had to borrow from the work of my mentor, Dr. Gibbs, to get this system to operate, but hey, I make sure he's credited in the programming. I promise, though, this won't be like _any_ video game you've ever played before."

He motioned Mia over to a small metal platform with footprints drawn on them. She joined him, finding herself facing a laser apparatus. Her eyes widened in realization.

"CLU," said Flynn.

"Yes, sir. Diagnostic complete. There is—"

"Hold that thought. Save it for later. Ready the Game Grid."

"Yes, sir. Game Grid booting now, sir."

"Wait... You mean... The Grid? We're going into The Grid???" Mia turned to Flynn in a panic. "W-Wait a minute. That's the laser thing, right? I'm gonna be, like, digitized into a computer?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

"Flynn, I don't think I'm ready for something like that! It's too much too soon!"

She knew there were many things she would discover on this world that were impossible on hers and that each of them would blow her mind in different ways, some in alarming ways. But this – being shot with a laser and digitized out of one realm of existence and into another, into a computer, was too scary.

"Look, I'll just--" She was interrupted by the sound of the laser booting up. Mia yipped and went to scurry off the platform, but Flynn grabbed her and gently pulled her back to him.

"Aw, come on. Don't be such a baby, Miandra. Trust me, it's gonna be really cool, man. CLU, activate the digitizer!"

"N-No, w-wait...!"

Too late. It was happening. The laser apparatus began to hum. Mia cried out, burying her face in Flynn's chest. She couldn't watch. Her scream was cut short as the laser fired, freezing them in space and converting them into digital data. As Mia's body was reconstructed, her scream recommenced in the echoey chamber of another plane of existence entirely.

"Hey, Miandra! Cool it! We're fine, honey. Totally intact, man."

_Honey?_ Mia would've blushed if it weren't for the fact that her skin had taken on a more grayish quality. She stepped away from Flynn and took in her surroundings.

"We're here," said Flynn. "The Game Grid."

"Wow," she breathed.

This new environment, were she to describe it, was very reminiscent, graphically, of the sequel movie toTron _, Tron Legacy,_ and yet there was also a simplicity to it, like in the original. There was no massive digital city. Just a simple gaming grid. Their outfits were of a similar fashion; an amalgamation of both the old and the modern movie. They were styled after the more modern _Tron Legacy_ move but with more minute designs reminiscent of the original.

Mia gazed up at Flynn and gulped. He struck quite the handsome figure in his formfitting black suit, much like Tron's, with glowing blue circuit patterns and a downwards pointing triangular shape in the middle of his chest. And the suit let her see just how decent his form was, as it showed off every contour of perfectly sculpted muscle. Flynn was built pretty well for a guy who worked with computers all day, leading Mia to surmise that there must be a gym somewhere in the Imagination Institute where he worked out.

Mia, herself, wore a similar suit, quite formfitting, but with white circuits, exposed shoulders, and – of all things – a diamond-shaped opening in the front of the suit, just over her cleavage. She glanced back up at Flynn, pointing at her bust and lifting a cynical eyebrow.

"Seriously? A bit gratuitous, don't you think?"

"What? C'mon, now. You think _I_ did that? Like on purpose?"

Mia noticed that despite his words, he didn't outright deny it, and there was no hiding that sheepish grin on his face.

"It just... randomly generates, man," he said with a laugh.

"Why don't I believe that?"

"Hey, if you ask me," he said, bringing his hand to his chin and tilting his head. "It looks pretty good. _You_ look pretty good, Miandra," he said with a playful smile.

Mia was glad her face was so devoid of color so he couldn't see her blush. She rolled her eyes in an exasperated fashion. "Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks, I guess. Oh, and you can just call me Mia. That's what I go by back home."

"Mia," repeated Flynn, as though trying it on for size. "Okay. Not that Miandra isn't pretty, but Mia's simpler, I suppose. I like it. And if the gear isn't to your liking, you can change it. Style, accessories, colors... Whatever you want."

That was nice to know, though Mia also noticed he didn't bother to tell her _how_ to do that. Flynn turned away from her, gazing out at The Grid, which seemed to be sitting idle until a game was started.

"So, this is it! The Game Grid. My big project."

The Game Grid was a digital landscape with a massive arena. It seemed to be made of some strange, shiny metallic surface along the walls with glowing highlights, while the field looked like it was made of thick, perfectly smooth, unblemished glass etched with a luminescent grid-like pattern. It looked slippery, but as Mia moved across it, she felt quite stable. Their footwear provided perfect traction.

"It's still in development. Maybe I'll add some new games, change some of the designs. I even considered implementing a stadium audience, but that might be too distracting. I don't know. I doubt Ram could focus much with a massive audience cheering."

"It's pretty amazing already," Mia told him, walking up beside him. "I can't believe I'm inside a computer." She glanced up, watching little lights shoot along circuits overhead. "I like that," she said, "Up there. They look like shooting stars. It's pretty."

Flynn smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess they do. I thought it was pretty nifty, myself. That was a happy accident in the programming. So, I left it."

He returned his gaze to her, studying her smiling face as she admired the _shooting stars,_ as she'd called them. Their light shined prettily on her face.

"Well, then, little lady, ready for a tutorial?"


	11. Grid Games

"Greetings, User Flynn."

The computerized though still somehow feminine voice echoed all around them as Flynn placed his Identity Disc into a circular alcove at a console on the smooth, glassy wall. Mia felt behind her back. She had one, too. Just like Tron.

A screen lit up on the wall, showing a picture of Flynn's face along with what appeared to be Grid stats, including win/loss records, total play time, how many games he'd played, and other such things. Flynn removed his disc from the wall and returned it to his back.

"Your turn," he said. "Just take your ID disc and set it in one of the alcoves. It'll register you into the system."

Mia fumbled awkwardly with her disc before placing it in the console as Flynn had done.

"Greetings, User Miandra." Mia's face appeared alongside a line of zeros for her stats.

"Great," said Mia somewhat sarcastically, "Now the computer knows who I am." She removed her disc and, with help from Flynn, returned it to her back. "So, now I'm in the system, right? What do we play?"

"Just a sec."

Flynn touched her name on the screen. The name _Miandra_ , disappeared and a keyboard display appeared above the name space. Flynn typed in three letters: M-I-A, and pressed enter. Now she was listed as _Mia_.

"Like I said, it's all customizable. I figured you'd prefer it this way. Either that or I can change it to _Dream Girl._ "Grinning, Flynn turned away from the profile board.

"Uh, _Dream Girl?_ " Mia followed him to the center of the gridscape, uncertain whether his alternate name for her was a reference to her relation to The Dreamfinder or it if implied something else entirely. Her feminine ego rather hoped that perhaps it was the latter, but she swiftly admonished herself for this line of thinking.

_You're becoming positively daffy, Mia. Just because you're in a fairytale world, you're expecting a fairytale romance to fall into your lap. This is reality. Reality isn't like that._

"As for the games," said Flynn, "There's a few we can choose from. There's Disc Wars, which is kind of like Frisbee if you hated everyone you're playing with; Light Cycles, where you use a light ribbon on the back of your bike to try to cut off your opponent's maneuverability; and lastly, the ring game, which I don't think I have a real name for yet."

Mia had a vague recollection of these games from the _Tron_ movies, though there was something rather bothersome she suddenly remembered.

"Uh, wait a minute... If I get hit with something, am I gonna shatter into tiny shards of glass, or is that just another film-only thing?' she asked nervously.

"You mean like deresolution? Derezzing? Nah. That's only for in-game AI. We're users, Mia. Flesh and blood. Heart and soul. We won't derezz. Hell, even _Tron_ won't derezz when he's in here. He's an outside program, not bound to the limits of this system. I have safety protocols to ensure that won't happen."

"Well, that's a relief," said Mia, although she felt a little stupid for asking now. Of course, Flynn wouldn't allow them to be derezzed.

"Oh, that reminds me. With the games, we can either play against each other one-on-one, or we can play as a team against AIs. What do you wanna do? You're the new player, so you pick."

"I think it'd like to be on a team with you," she mumbled bashfully. "At least to start. Though I'm afraid I might be a bit of a handicap for you."

"Nah, it's your first time on the Grid. I can scale back the difficulty of the AIs too, ya' know. But if it'd make you feel better to do teamplay to start, okay. The best team games are either Disc Wars or Light Cycles. If you really wanna start simple, then I guess Disc Wars is a good place to start. Whattya' say? Two-on-two Disc Wars, then?"

Mia nodded. She was in no position to argue. He knew these games better than she did. Flynn returned to the main console to start the game, loading up the enemy AIs and setting the parameters for the match.

"Some things I should warn you about – sometimes the arena will change shape and even rotate, forcing you to hurry your way to the ceiling. You can either dodge disc shots or block 'em with your own discs. Make use of the obstacles that come up. Get on top of them or hide behind 'em. Oh, and discs can ricochet; another good thing to keep in mind. That all make sense?"

"Doesn't sound like a game for the athletically challenged. And to think I could barely handle dodgeball in gym class," said Mia with a sigh. "Well, all right. I'll give it a go, I guess."

"Hey, trust me, I'm not the most athletically gifted guy in the world, but I manage okay. Plus, it _really_ gets your blood pumping, man. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing."

Once Flynn finished setting up the game parameters, the computerized voice returned.

" _Welcome to... Disc Wars. Users, to your starting positions_." Two squares on the grid lit up, awaiting them.

"I'll watch your back. Don't worry." Flynn took the disc off his back, activating it for game mode. The rim lit up and gave off a buzzing hum. Mia stood in the square beside him, following suit. The playing field rose up, forming a glass box around them.

"Trapped like rats," muttered Mia. "Really inspires confidence."

A second later, their opponents appeared in front of them – two programs, each sporting red circuits on their gear. Mia gulped nervously.

"Do they have to look so intimidating?"

Helmets with visors materialized over the heads of all four players and the countdown began.

_Three... two... one..._

A disembodied voice above them announced, " _GAME... START_!"

Panicking, Mia threw her disc right off the bat. "YAAAH!!!"

The disc buzzed through the air towards their opponents, who both leapt out of the way, avoiding a hit. The disc repelled off the wall with a sound like a digitized bullet ricochet and sailed back towards its user. Mia caught her returning disc, but the force of it sent her skidding backwards a bit.

Their opponents were already on the move. One made a mad dash for Flynn, letting his disc fly. Flynn used his own disc to deflect it. "Interesting way to start the game, kiddo."

Flynn let his disc fly, not toward the AI who'd attacked him, but at the other, who was coming for Mia.

"Heads up, sweetheart!"

The AI dodged just in time, causing Flynn's disc to ricochet once, then twice, and Flynn had to run to his left to retrieve it. Flynn caught his disc and made a swipe at his opponent. The AI leapt aside and was on the run, putting more space between them to make Flynn's job a little harder.

Mia's next throw of the disc was more poised and controlled, but the second AI raised his disc, effectively deflecting hers. This sent it ricocheting up towards the ceiling.

"Damn it," Mia cursed as she watched her disc's trajectory, waiting for it to return to her outstretched hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her opponent's disc hurtling towards her.

_Hurry up, hurry up,_ she willed her disc, hoping it would return it time.

An alarm blared throughout the arena and a section of the floor rose to form a pillar. It shot up just in front of Mia, fortuitously blocking the enemy's disc from hitting her. Mia caught her disc and took shelter behind the pillar. Her good fortune was not shared, however. Flynn's disc had been zooming right for his opponent when the pillar rose, blocking his attack.

"No fair! I had 'im! Lucky stiff."

More pillars and walls formed inside the arena, changing the shape of their already confined environment. Mia decided to use the new terrain to her advantage. She moved stealthily between the pillars, hoping to sneak up on her opponent. Mia's enemy had spotted Flynn through an opening between pillars and had just thrown his disc at him when Mia came up behind him. Unarmed and defenseless, the AI was now at her mercy. Her disc sheered through his midsection and he shattered into what looked like hundreds of tiny shards of glass. She had just scored her first derezz.

" _CPU 1... Deresolution_."

"YES! I GOT HIM!" Mia cried excitedly. "Hey, Flynn! Did you see—"

Flynn glanced in Mia's direction and spotted her opponent's disc flying at him. He dropped to the ground just in time. The disc hit a wall and derezzed on impact. Flynn rolled across the ground, but the remaining AI got the jump on him. It pounced on Flynn, pinning him to the grid floor and attempted to drive his disc down into Flynn's head. Flynn caught his enemy's forearm and held it, struggling to keep him at bay.

For a brief moment, Mia forgot that she and Flynn could not be derezzed in the same way as their opponents. "FLYNN!" she screamed and ran towards him, throwing her disc at his attacker.

The AI rolled off of Flynn, landing on his back beside him. Mia's disc bounced off one of the raised pillars and returned to her hand. The distraction gave Flynn the opportunity to reverse their positions. He rolled atop his opponent and plunged his disc into its chest. The AI let out a digitally garbled cry and shattered into red pixels.

" _CPU 2... Deresolution. Winners: User Flynn, User Mia_."

"YES!" shouted Mia, leaping up and down and punching her fist into the air. "WE WON!" She hurried over to Flynn and offered him a hand up. "We won! We won! Did you see me derez that guy earlier? That was _super_ fun! Let's do it again!"

"You wanna play another one? You know, you're pretty cute when you're excited."

Mia blushed fiercely, glad it wasn't visible in this new environment.

The disembodied computer voice spoke overhead. " _Proceed to... Round 2? Or... Start New Game_?"

Flynn turned to Mia with an arched eyebrow. "How about it, hot stuff? You pick."

Mia certainly _felt_ hot at those words, hot and weak-kneed with a stomach full of butterflies. But she tried not to let on as she laughed off his comment as best she could. "Laying it on kinda thick, aren't you?"

"Laying what on thick? What are you talking about?"

Mia rolled her eyes. " _Anyway..._ I think I'd at least like to do a second round. Then maybe we can try a new game." But she wondered, with Flynn's comments hanging in the air, if she'd even be able to concentrate on the games.

"Right on. Still getting used to the game. I gotcha. Let's do it." He tilted his head to the expansive dark sky and called out, "Proceed!"

" _Proceed... to Round 2. Users, to your starting points_."

Two brand new opponents materialized across from them.

"You ready, Dream Girl?" said Flynn with a playful smirk just before his visor lowered.

Mia rolled her eyes for a second time as her visor lowered. The game began its countdown. This time, Mia didn't react in a panic. Rather than making the first haphazard throw, she played defense early and gradually played more offense as the game went on. In the end, the outcome of the second game was the same, with Mia and Flynn the victors.

"Whew!" said Mia, stretching as her visor came back up, revealing her face. "That was great! I honestly can't remember the last time I had so much fun!"

"Really? I mean, I get you probably had nothing like this back on Earth, but surely it can't be so long since you've had any real fun."

Mia shook her head.

"Don't you have any friends back home?"

"I used to, but we all sort of parted ways after high school. These days I'm a bit of a loner, and I've always been pretty introverted, actually."

Flynn lifted an eyebrow. "Really? I seriously would've never guessed."

"I get that a lot. I'm actually an INFJ, so I'm easily mistaken for an extrovert."

"What are you even talking about?"

"You know, like in the Myers-Briggs personality types?"

Flynn shook his head, still looking bewildered.

"Oh, right. Dizgaia probably doesn't have Myers-Briggs. Never mind."

"Well, either way, I'm glad you're having fun. Grid Games are great. I almost feel a little bad for that CPU guy who got smashed between a rising platform and a lowering platform. Tough luck there, huh?"

"At least he's only a program, right?" Though she wondered if she'd feel the same way if the program it question was, say, Tron. Tron was so versatile, it was hard to think of him as a mere program. She shuddered to think of any similar fate befalling him.

The computer voice returned. " _Proceed to Round 3? Or... Start New Game_?"

"New Game!" called Flynn to the voice belonging to what Mia had internally dubbed as _the invisible sky lady_.

The Grid returned to its default open space.

"What do you say we play a different one?" he asked. "Maybe try The Ring Game? You wanna play one on one? Teams? Four player free-for-all?"

"I don't know..." said Mia. "A free-for-all sounds kinda scary to me. And if we play one-on-one, you'll mop the floor with me. Can we just stick with teams for now, at least until I get the hang of everything?"

"You just can't get enough of me, can you?" he asked, grinning somewhat arrogantly. "Want me all to yourself, Dream Girl?"

"Oh brother," Mia groaned. "Just start the game already, you weirdo."

Grinning, Flynn loaded up the game, a two-on-two single platform – the Ring Game. A brief virtual tutorial was given via the menu screen, showing illustrations of Flynn and Mia in their starting position, each armed with scoop-like tools, trying to catch a glowing ball which bounced back and forth between their platform and their opponents' platform.

Mia was glad the Grid offered them a demonstration before each game because it was this game in particular she was having difficulty recollecting from the movie. It had been an awfully long time since she last watched the original _Tron,_ and even then, it was more her dad's movie than hers.

The Grid transformed once more. Everything around them vanished, with the exception of the game control station several yards away. Now Flynn and Mia stood on a large circular platform made up of a center piece and six layers of rings. They reminded Mia of the rings of Saturn.

Another series of rings appeared across from them, leaving a sizeable gap between the two platforms. This one belonged to their opponents – two red, glowing CPU characters. A grid-patterned ceiling materialized above them, completing the playing field. Two scoop-like sticks appeared in their hands, which reminded Mia a little of lacrosse sticks, though Flynn informed her they were called _cestas_.

" _GAME... START!_ "

A glowing energy ball dropped from a tube above, and Flynn caught it in his cesta.

" _User Flynn. First serve_."

"Looks like we go first." Flynn bounced his ball in his cesta a couple times before whipping the ball underhanded towards the ceiling. It repelled off the grid and shot towards the AIs. One of them leapt forward and caught it in his cesta before sending it up to the ceiling. This time, when the ball repelled, it came hurtling back towards Flynn's and Mia's platform.

So as not to lose face or be outdone, Mia ran for it with her cesta outstretched. "I got it, I got it..." She extended her arm and caught the glowing ball, though her foot was on the outermost ring and her other raised in the air behind her in an awkward penchesort of position.

_This game isn't so hard after all,_ she thought, until she glanced down and saw just how precariously perched she was. She felt herself beginning to pitch forward off the platform when Flynn quickly grabbed a hold of her and yanked her back.

"Whoo! Careful now," he said. "I was almost down a teammate."

"Thanks for that," said Mia, breathing a sigh of relief. "So, uh, what exactly _does_ happen to us if the rings disappear and we, you know, fall?"

Flynn shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. You drop, sweetheart. Now, really whip it," he said, nodding to the glowing ball in her cesta. "Let's start taking out those rings."

Mia wished he'd stop with the pet names – not because she didn't like them, but because they made her silly in the head, and she knew there was probably no deeper meaning to them. It was just Flynn being Flynn. She reared back her arm and whipped the glowing ball hard towards the ceiling. The ball bounced off the grid and was again caught by one of the opposing AIs.

"Damn," said Mia. "Anyway, yeah, I get that we drop. But, like, I mean... where do we end up?"

"Where do we end up? Uh..."

Flynn got no further than that in answering her question, for the AI gave a spin and lobbed the ball with a particularly fierce momentum, bouncing it up and sending it down towards them with a nasty curve. Flynn flung himself forward and caught it just in time.

"Nice arm on that one. Let's see how he likes this." Flynn backed up and gave the ball a hard toss. The ball bounced. This time their opponents missed it. The ball hit ring 5, causing it to vanish. "Ha! Take that! That's one for us!"

"Nice!" said Mia. "Not that you need the compliment, of course. You're obviously a pro at this by now."

"I could always use more compliments. Helps the ol' ego out."

"I don't think you need any help with that one."

This time it was the CPUs' serve.

"Get ready, Mia," Flynn warned.

The AI gave the ball a vicious whip and it came careening toward the middle of their platform. To lose the center ring this early in the game would surely be devastating, so Mia ran for it, ducking low to scoop it. Flynn went after it at the same time, going high. In so doing, Flynn tripped over Mia and fell flat onto the platform. His foot clipped Mia's shoulder on the way down, sending her tumbling sideways. Mia landed on her back. The ball struck the middle of the platform, taking out the center ring and leaving a gaping hole in the middle.

Mia gathered herself into a sitting position and gave her head a little shake. "Ngh... Sorry, Flynn."

"It's all right," said Flynn, rising to his feet. "I'm just glad I never instituted that instant win _Bullseye_ protocol. We'd be _really_ screwed if I had."

The AIs across from them began to laugh. It was a sort of digital buzzing sound which made Mia wince.

"Ugh... Do they have to laugh like that? They sound so... malevolent."

"I've never had them laugh at _me_ before," said Flynn, frowning. "I mostly programmed that in to tease my pal, Ram."

"Testing the limits of their programming?" said Mia, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds risky, Flynn."

Another energy ball dropped from the tube and Flynn caught it. He rolled it into Mia's cesta.

"You serve," he said. "Shut those guys up."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm just gonna make them laugh even harder?"

Mia took a moment to study the layout of the ceiling and their opponents' rings, visualizing the trajectory of the ball. She faked a throw at a close section of the ceiling, but then swiftly changed direction and threw it further. It hit the ceiling above with a zap and went hurtling towards the back of their opponents' platform.

This time it paid off. The glowing ball sailed over their opponents' heads and nailed their sixth ring. This left an even wider gap between ring seven and four. There would be no sense in hopping back to ring 7, as it would be a risky maneuver. The CPUs' playing platform was getting smaller.

"I got one!" Mia exclaimed excitedly. "They're losing ground!"

"Yeah! There ya go! That shut 'em up!"

Unfortunately for Mia and Flynn, the same was soon true for them. The AI served the ball and it came in hot. Flynn tried for it but missed. The ball nailed the line separating rings 4 and 5, causing both rings to blink out of existence. Flynn flailed his arms, trying to keep his balance. He was left standing on 6 and 7, while Mia was alone on 2 and 3, a sizeable gap between them.

"Oh no! Now what?" Mia called from across the gap. "I've hardly got any room to move! And you never told me what happens when we fall!"

"C'mon, now's no time to panic. We can still get this."

Buzzing laughter came from the other platform and Flynn shot a glare at the CPUs.

"Ah, shaddup!"

The energy ball dropped from above, landing in Mia's cesta.

"You're in a better position to serve," Flynn called to her. "Let 'em have it!"

"I'm _really_ starting to think I'm not good at this game, Flynn."

"You'll get good! It's only your first time!"

Trying her best to balance on the two narrow rings, Mia tossed the ball up towards the ceiling. It hit its mark, but came down directly into one of the AIs cestas .

"Damn it!"

The AI quickly tossed it back at Mia. She stretched out her arm for it, but she didn't have the room she needed to maneuver. The ball took out one of the two rings on which she stood and she slipped.

"Ahhh!"

Mia caught the edge of the remaining ring, hugging it tightly to keep from falling, but her legs were dangling. She screamed again, kicking helplessly. Mia wasn't afraid of heights, but she was super afraid of falling into the dark abyss below her.

"Oh my God, oh my God! I don't wanna fall! Flynn, help!"

A new ball fell into Flynn's cesta, but that was the least of his concerns. "Hold on! I gotchya... I think." He didn't have much room to maneuver either, but Mia was seriously tweaking out. He needed to get to her. Flynn backed up to the edge of ring 7. "I'm gonna jump for it!"

Flynn dropped the ball into the abyss between the platforms, and the ball came out on the AIs' side. He launched himself from the edge of ring 6 and lunged for ring 2, but as he sailed through the air, he already knew he wasn't going to land it. Flynn caught the edge of the ring, now dangling precariously on the ledge beside Mia. They could hear the buzzing laughter of their opponents.

"Shit," he grunted. "That was stupid."

Mia closed her eyes tightly, her arms trembling from the strain of the effort. "I'm s-scared, Flynn. I'm r-really scared of f-falling. I don't want to fall. Please don't let me fall!"

"It's okay, honey. Just hang on. Here, can you inch over to me? Yeah, that's it. Nice and easy."

Little by little, inch by inch, Mia slid her hands, one after the other, across the ledge until she was hanging right up against Flynn.

"Good girl," he said with a reassuring smile. "Now, just hang tight and I'll try to help you back up."

Hanging now by one arm, Flynn wrapped his other arm around Mia's waist and tried to hoist her back up onto the ring. More buzzing laughter echoed from across the way, and when Flynn glanced up, he soon saw why. The ball was sailing towards their platform, and neither he nor Mia were in any position to stop it. The glowing ball hit ring 2. Flynn's eyes went wide.

"Aw, shit."

The ring disappeared and Mia let out a scream. Flynn wrapped his arms around her as they fell, plummeting into the abyss. Their descent did not last long. Their bodies turned over in mid-air, seemingly of their own accord, and they reappeared in the Game Control area. Mia landed softly on her back with Flynn on top of her. Their helmets and cestas dematerialized.

" _User Flynn... elimination. User Mia... elimination. You lose. Game over_."

Although Mia's screams had stopped, her eyes were still shut tight and she had a death grip on the material of Flynn's suit. Smiling, Flynn brushed a few strands of burgundy hair out of her face.

"Hey, hey... We're okay. We're fine."

Mia slowly opened her eyes to find Kevin Flynn's smiling face hovering over her.

"See? Not even a scratch. Even after that embarrassing defeat, you look as good coming out as you did going in."

Gulping, Mia averted her gaze. "I-I was hardly concerned about my looks," she said, feigning indignation.

Flynn chuckled. The more time he spent with Mia, the cuter he realized she was. And judging by the way she behaved around him, he was getting the idea that perhaps Mia didn't have much experience around guys. Now there was something her ever-knowledgeable father didn't have a chance to teach her about. Flynn leaned in a bit closer and spoke softly to her.

"So... ready for something more exciting?"

Mia gulped. "S-Something... m-more exciting?"

Flynn could practically feel her heart pounding against his chest. He'd yet to climb off of her, but he couldn't resist teasing her just a little. She was just too damn cute.

"Yeah," he said. "It's time to straddle something that'll _really_ make you excited."

Despite the gray coloring of their skin, this line made her blush so deeply that it somehow bypassed the monochrome and showed up light pink on her cheeks. Flynn couldn't keep up the charade. The poor girl couldn't handle it.

"Yeah. It's time for Light Cycles, man!"

Flynn rolled off and got to his feet, offering Mia his hand. Mia did her best to regain composure as he pulled her to her feet.

"That is, if you want to," he said. "I do recall when we rolled into the ImageWorks on my light cycle you said you never wanted to do it again. Should we just skip that one?"

"To be fair," said Mia, finally regaining her breath, "I wasn't exactly prepared for it. We'd just zoomed down a spiraling tunnel of rainbow light, fleeing from hell-spawned goblins. I'm not opposed to riding a light cycle under less... dire... circumstances."

"I see," said Flynn with a teasing grin. "In that case, I'll set us up for something good." He queued up the Light Cycle game for two-on-two team play.

" _Preparing... Light Cycle arena. Users, to your starting points_."

Two squares on the grid lit up for them. A pair of AIs appeared far on the other side of the arena. Mia stared across at their red, glowing opponents. No matter what Flynn said, they still made her nervous.

"You ready for this?" asked Flynn. "Just avoid them. Use your light ribbon to cut them off."

"You make it sound so simple."

As they took up their position on the lit-up squares, their visors returned and two glowing batons rose from the glassy grid floor to meet them; a blue baton for Flynn to match the circuits of his suit, and a white one for Mia. When they took ahold of the batons, Mia and Flynn were pulled forward as though by some invisible force and two sleek, white light cycles formed around them. Two red cycles materialized around the AIs at the other side of The Grid.

" _Light Cycles. GAME START_!"

With that, Flynn tore off across The Grid.

"W-Wait!" cried Mia. "H-How do I start it?" She flexed her right hand over the handlebar and suddenly the cycle took off. "WOOOAAAH!!!"

The bike was fast... too fast. It felt wobbly beneath her. Mia wasn't sure she had a good handle on it, but gradually the cycle seemed to almost lock into the grid floor and felt sturdier. Still, it was moving so fast and Mia felt somewhat out of control.

Flynn's voice came to her through her helmet. "You okay? You steady?"

It seemed in team play the light cycles came equipped with a sort of com-link to allow teammates to speak to one another.

"The bike should lock onto the grid," he said. "It should steady your driving, but they're fast. This isn't so much about steering; this is more about thinking fast. On the Grid, a light cycle is more responsive to your mind than to steering. It's what makes instant 90 degree turns possible. So, eyes sharp and think fast! Got it?"

"W-Wait. You mean I'm _not_ supposed to steer? Woah!" She narrowly avoided the ribbon trail of an enemy light cycle. "And 90 degree turns? How the hell- AHH!" The enemy was coming at her again, and she veered off at a 90-degree angle, answering her own question and showing exactly how this was to be accomplished. "Yikes! Talk about whiplash! I'm feeling a little dizzy here, Flynn."

Flynn veered to the left, avoiding a red ribbon left by one enemy bike as he did his best to outrun the other. Using his own light ribbon, Flynn tried to box his enemy in, but the AI gave him the slip and changed direction, headed for Mia. The second enemy bike zoomed past her. Mia was too late. She cried out as she slammed headfirst into the ribbon trail. Her cycle derezzed and she went flying and tumbling to the ground where she rolled a few feet before coming to a stop.

" _User Mia... Elimination_!"

"Mia! Damn!"

Flynn didn't have time to stop. Now he was down a teammate and had both enemies to deal with. It was now two on one. He clenched his teeth and proceeded on, determined to finish the game victorious.

As Mia tried to regain her bearings, she was surrounded by white pixels and teleported back to the Game Control Area, swaying unsteadily. She had to sit down to giver her equilibrium a chance to return as she watched Flynn use some tricky moves to out-maneuver his opponents.

" _CPU 2... Deresolution_!"

Mia studied Flynn's moves, trying to memorize his techniques for future reference. She wanted another shot at this game. It was embarrassing how swiftly she'd been eliminated. She had to save face with Flynn or he'd think her a clumsy oaf. She watched Flynn race the remaining AI, tensing every time it looked like he was about to run into the enemy's ribbon trail. But Flynn had mad skills and outmaneuvered his opponent every time.

Flynn drove parallel to one of the arena walls before darting down the middle of the Grid, creating a long wall of his own with his light ribbon. He and the AI turned sharply around, heading back up towards the arena wall, Flynn running parallel to his own light ribbon. The AI drove alongside him, attempting to herd Flynn straight into the arena wall. Just when it seemed that the red bike was going to outrun him and accomplish this, Flynn plunged forward and cut sharply to the right avoiding the collision. Another 90-degree turn to the right and he trapped the AI's bike, which slammed into Flynn's light ribbon.

"So long, sucker!"

" _CPU 1... Deresolution_!"

Flynn's cycle slowed to a stop as he rolled up to the control area.

" _User Flynn... Victory! Game over_!"

The light cycle dissipated and Flynn stood on his feet once more, heading back to Mia with a smug grin on his face. Mia rose to her feet, but rather than congratulate him, she said, "Okay. Again. I think I've got it this time. Let's go again. Just once more."

"Are you sure? You really want to have another go? I mean, you wiped out pretty early the first time. You think you can do better this time?"

"Ugh! I know, I know. I totally sucked! But I can't go out like that. I've gotta give it another go." She looked at him with an adorable pout on her face. "Besides, I can't have you thinking I'm _that_ uncoordinated."

Flynn smiled. Not only did his opinion matter to Mia, but she was really enjoying grid games. This only served to enhance his good mood.

Mia tilted her head back, as though addressing an invisible entity high above them. "Start up round two of the Light Cycle game, computer lady!"

At her command, two AIs appeared once more and they were summoned to their starting positions. Soon, they were off, Mia having much better control of the Light Cycle this time.

"Alright, Mia. Remember what I told you. It's not about steering. It's about thinking, and thinking _fast_."

Mia didn't reply. She was already concentrating and working on a strategy to trap her opponents. Replicating a few of Flynn's moves from Round One, she defeated her opponent in much the same way he had previously.

"CPU 1... Deresolution!" Mia proclaimed in tandem to the computerized voice overhead. Now it was two against once, with game point to Mia.

"YEAH! That's the way, Dream Girl! Now let's take it to this last goon and win this game!" Soon, Flynn was racing alongside her, eyeing up their enemy. "Mia, you got anything in mind for this guy?"

She glanced at Flynn with a wide grin. "How about a sandwich?"

"Sounds tasty!" Flynn shot ahead, matching pace with the enemy AI. "Flank him, Mia!"

Mia pulled up alongside their opponent so that he was trapped between her and Flynn. The three raced across the grid. At one point, their CPU adversary began to pull ahead, but Mia and Flynn swiftly caught up with him once more. At the last moment, with an exchanged glance and a shout of "Now!" from Flynn, they closed the gap between them. With a garbled, digital cry, the red Light Cycle smashed into their light ribbons.

" _CPU 2... Deresolution. Winners... User Flynn... User Mia_."

Mia grinned triumphantly. Her idea, which she had admittedly stolen from the original Tron movie, worked fantastically. Flynn didn't seem to mind, or perhaps he didn't even realize. The light cycles came to a stop and disappeared around them. Mia was really getting into the games now. She threw her arms around Flynn in her excitement, hugging him as she bounced up and down.

"WE DID IT! WE WON! WE WON! YES!"

Flynn lifted her off her feet and spun her around. "Yes! Now you're getting into it!"

Mia blushed as he returned her to her feet.

"So, what do you think of the Game Grid? Pretty wild stuff, huh?"

Bashfully, Mia tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Y-Yeah. Real wild. Like I said, I don't remember the last time I had such a good time."

"Well, I tell you what, Mia. Any time you wanna come in and play on the Game Grid, it's yours. If you're in the mood, you can mosey on in and play."

"Really? You mean it? Like, you're absolutely sure?"

Flynn nodded.

"Wow! Thanks, Flynn! That's awesome! Though..." She averted her gaze shyly. "I think I'd like to play specifically with you. I don't know if it'd be as much fun by myself."

"I've got no objections there, sweetheart."

Mia blushed for what felt like the hundredth time. She wanted to hug Flynn, but she resisted the temptation.

"In fact, if you don't have anywhere else to be, what do you say we give one-on-one action a try?" he suggested.

"One on one? You mean me versus you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know you're still getting the hang of playing these games, but it could be pretty fun to try your hand against an actual person, don't you think? Besides, think of how much you'll improve when you've got me to practice against."

"I guess I can't argue with you there."

Flynn's smile became positively mischievous. "And what do you say we make it interesting?"


	12. The Wager

"Interesting?" said Mia.

"Yeah. We could make a wager. You get something if you win, or I get something if I win. How's that sound?"

Mia tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well... I'm not opposed to trying my hand against you one-on-one, but I'm pretty sure we both already know which of us is going to win. So I don't know that there'd be much point in a wager."

"Hey, you never know," said Flynn, shrugging. "Besides, I've got top-of-the line equipment here, not to mention my brilliant brain. You could ask me for anything and I'd have to grant it. Wouldn't you want to take a chance on winning yourself your very own light cycle?"

"A light cycle, huh?"

Mia took a moment to ponder this . A light cycle would be a pretty cool thing to have. She could easily picture herself driving it down Main Street in some new duds, perhaps a leather jacket not so unlike the one Flynn wore outside of The Grid.

"Well, that _would_ be pretty sweet. All right, then. In the unlikely event that I actually win, I get a light cycle. But when _you_ doubtlessly win... Well, I'm not really sure what you're gonna get. But it does make things interesting. Okay, let's do it."

"It's a deal. And don't worry, we'll cross that bridge when we get there... ifI win, of course."

"You mean _when_ you win."

Flynn grinned and shrugged as he went to the control console and began loading a new game. Mia wondered what Flynn could possibly expect from her. She hadn't brought many material possessions with her from the other side.

"What do you wanna play first?" he asked. "Discs? Cycles? Rings? You pick."

"Why not just do everything in the same order as before? Discs, Rings, and Cycles?"

"Works for me."

And so, it began. Despite being a fast learner and despite her previous success at Disc Wars, Mia just couldn't compete with Flynn physically. A couple minutes into the game, Flynn's ID disc struck Mia's midsection. The glowing circuits on her outfit blinked, showing she'd been hit. The disc disappeared on impact and reappeared on Flynn's back.

" _User Mia... Elimination. Winner... User Flynn_."

"Well, _that_ was no huge surprise," said Mia afterwards.

Next was The Ring Game, which to Mia's immense shock, she somehow managed to win.

"Are you sure you didn't let me win just to be nice?" she asked, giving Flynn an accusing look.

"No way! You won fair and square, man. You're getting better at that game, for sure!"

Finally, they both took to the arena for Light Cycles. Flynn was pleased to see how well Mia was handling the game now, making full use of the sudden and naturally impossible 90-degree turns. She was doing her best to trap him, but Flynn managed to give her the slip each time. They were on the arena for a long time. As such, they'd managed to practically create a labyrinth with their light ribbons. Now, Mia and Flynn were racing side by side through the maze they'd created.

They were one to one in a three-game competition and were pretty neck and neck on their light cycles. Just when Mia foolishly thought she might have a chance at beating Flynn, the opening in the maze she'd been aiming for was abruptly cut off by Flynn's light ribbon as he swerved in front of her. Mia's cycle collided with his ribbon.

"AHHH!"

The light cycle derezzed around her and Mia went flying and tumbling onto the grid. Her helmet disappeared and she lay on her back, gazing up at the lights tracing along the circuits in the night-like sky above.

" _User Flynn... Winner_!"

"AND NO ONE WAS SURPRISED!" Mia called out to the sky.

Flynn's cycle screeched to a halt and he dismounted, grinning as his helmet disappeared in a flow of blue pixels. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as he came to stand above Mia, gazing down at her with a playful smile.

"You didn't do too bad, Mia. If I didn't slip into that opening at the last second, I think you would've had me. You're getting pretty good at these games."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. We both knew you were gonna win, obviously. Thanks, though... I guess."

Flynn crouched down next to her. "You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

Mia swallowed. Man, that form-fitting grid gear looked good on him, and the way his hair was all disheveled right now... She tried to shake these thoughts from her mind, giving him an embarrassed smile.

"N-No. I'm fine. Just a little winded." She quirked her lips as her ribs gave a soft throb, reminding her they were still bruised. "Well, I suppose I _am_ a little sore. Maybe playing Grid Games wasn't the smartest thing to do after taking a beating from the Tremaine sisters, but I feel surprisingly goodin here."

"Yeah, it's something I've noticed, too," said Flynn, taking a seat on the ground beside her. "Aches and pains from the outside sort of disappear in here. I'm not sure what accounts for that, maybe something in the digitization process. Maybe I should figure out a way to market that. Might put ol' Tadashi and his Baymax units outta business, though," he said with a chuckle.

"Not necessarily," said Mia. "I mean, the Baymax units serve their purpose, but you could almost use the Grid technology for people in need of palliative care."

"Hmm. You may have a good point there, kiddo. Something to consider. Anyway, there's a lot of things about the Grid that are still a mystery even to me." He gazed out across the gridscape, a distant look in his eyes. "When I'm on the Grid, I feel so much better. It's like I leave all my troubles and worries behind when the digitizer zaps me in here. I almost feel at peace, like I could meditate and really get my Zen thing on, man. I can't explain it. Maybe it's just an adrenaline high, but... maybe it's not. Maybe there's really something more to the Grid than just playing video games. Like, you could do things here that you might not have the cojones to do out there."

Mia stared at Flynn, appreciating the distant, dreamy look in his eyes and the way he spoke about the Grid. Something about it was just really... alluring.

"Which reminds me," he said, returning his gaze to Mia. "I guess it's time for my reward."

"I'm not sure I have much to offer, Flynn. I mean, _you're_ the one who's got all this great tech and light cycles and all kinds of cool gadgets. Me? I've got nothing, really. The only thing I brought to this world with me was my sketchbook. I guess I could give you an IOU or something."

Flynn chuckled. "I don't think that's necessary. You already have what I'd like for a reward on you right now." He placed his hand against her cheek and Mia's eyes grew wide. She gulped audibly. Flynn leaned in closer.

"I want... to kiss you, Mia."

Cheeks aflame, Mia averted her gaze bashfully. Her heart was pounding a percussive rhythm against her rib cage. Kiss her? Was he serious? She risked another glance at him. He _looked_ pretty serious. Swallowing nervously, Mia gave him the answer she wanted to give.

"Okay," she said, the word coming out in a breathless sort of whisper.

Mia closed her eyes a bit too tightly and pursed her lips, revealing to him, in this amusing little gesture, that this was to be her first-ever kiss. Flynn suppressed a chuckle.

_Cute,_ he thought.

Still, he was a little surprised that Mia had never been kissed before. How old was she, 18, 19? Maybe 20? And no guy had ever been lucky enough to place his lips on hers? It was definitely time to change that. Although there may be a bit of an age gap between them, in a world where time moved differently, in a world of fantasy-turned-reality, and then, on the Grid, did something like that really matter?

Mia waited in nervous anticipation. For a moment, there was nothing. Was he just teasing her? But then she felt his hand caressing her cheek and she sensed him moving closer. Mia trembled and quivered, but she dutifully held her position, allowing Flynn a chance at claiming the prize he deserved. Then it happened. Flynn closed the gap between their lips, taking Mia's inaugural kiss for himself.

His lips were surprisingly soft. Mia never would have guessed a man's lips could be so soft, although she also felt the unmistakable sandpaper roughness of a five o'clock shadow against her skin. For a computer geek, Flynn was ruggedly handsome. Of course, she wasn't one to complain.

Eyes still shut tight, Mia kissed him back. She felt as though she were stumbling through it, like a little lamb learning to walk for the first time. And yet Flynn's kiss was just so utterly perfect. She couldn't have asked for a better first kiss. His hand moved to the small of her back and he pulled her closer to him, bringing her body flush against his. At first, Mia stiffened. But then she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the feeling of being pressed against him.

Flynn's hand moved from her cheek and settled against the grid floor. The tiles where his hand touched began to glow and the floor beneath them changed shape, forming a glossy J-shaped chair which scooped their bodies into it as it rose from the grid. Flynn reclined in the chair pulling Mia atop him. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed her more deeply.

He was mostly flying off the cuff. He hadn't truly planned this far. But this girl was really cute. And not only that, she was a hell of a lot of fun. Flynn brought his hand to the back of Mia's head, pushing his fingers into her silky auburn locks. His other hand moved to her hip, threatening to slide down to uncharted territory. He could feel almost every curve of her body through the form-fitting grid gear, and he was just itching to explore.

Mia made a sound in the back of her throat, one she'd never made before. She felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment, but she couldn't control it. To think that her first kiss would be with a fictional character from a 1980s Disney movie!

_No, not fictional. He's real. He's totally real. He's like my very own real-life 1980s nostalgia boyfriend. Hell, he may as well be an unofficial Disney prince!_

Mia felt Flynn's hand slipping down her back, lower and lower. How far did he intend to take this? Mia pulled her lips from his with a gasp.

"F-Flynn, look... I've never actually... um, that is, I-I mean to say, this is my first..." Mia hesitated, chewing her lower lip in a manner that only made Flynn want to take it gently between his teeth and do the same. "I've never done this before," she finally admitted.

"It's okay, Mia. Look, it's new to both of us. See, I've never made out in the Grid before either."

Mia pursed her lips disapprovingly at his joke, trying her best to look annoyed. But it was hard not to smile.

Flynn gave her a playful grin. "Kidding, Mia. Look, I promise I won't hurt you. And I won't do anything you don't want me to."

_I never said I didn't want this,_ she thought. _Just do what you want with me, Flynn. That's what I really want._

"But if you're feeling a little nervous about everything," he continued, "Let me give you some advice." His lips brushed against hers, making her blush all over again. "Just take a deep breath and go with the flow."

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?" she breathed, before quite suddenly they were kissing with even more reckless abandon.

It was so hot, here in the Grid of all places, with Kevin Flynn, who might as well be a god in this domain. So much was happening so fast. First, she'd almost been kidnapped by Gaston, then transported to a world that she thought could only exist in dreams, met her biological father, and found out she was more than just a normal Earth girl, but born of this amazing, magical world. And now... now she was in the Grid, inside a _computer_ , sharing her first kiss... no, full on making out with Kevin Flynn.

Flynn couldn't really explain why he was taking this as far as he was. It was only a kiss he'd wanted from her - maybe just to tease her; maybe because for the past few years, despite being surrounded by other Imagineers and being a valued member of the team at the Imagination Institute, he'd felt incredibly alone. He kept people out of his private life. But in came Mia and suddenly all the doors were blown open. Why? Because she was cute? Because he wanted to show off? Or was there just some kind of connection between them? Flynn wasn't even entirely sure, himself. It just felt right.

His hands trailed slowly along Mia's thighs, and the circuits on her grid gear began to glow brighter as he accessed their program and edited it, all with his fingertips. Gradually, the legs of Mia's gear were disappearing with the movements of his hands. Flynn trailed his fingers back up her bare thighs.

Mia gave a sudden shiver. It was like electricity when he touched her. She could almost feel the warmth of his fingers against her skin. The material of these grid outfits were certainly formfitting... and thin. But his touch felt so heavenly, she wasn't one to complain. She'd never been touched like this before; it was the most stimulating thing she'd ever felt, and she desperately craved more.

Flynn's hands moved to Mia's hips. Slowly, he trailed his fingers and palms up along her torso. Her white circuits were glowing bright. Bit by bit, Mia was losing her grid gear, never noticing, as she was far too lost in his sweet kisses. When their lips parted for air, it was then Mia realized the changes that had been made to her outfit. The legs of the suit had now become shorts and the top now resembled a high-collared, sleeveless crop top, exposing her abdomen. The gloves and shin-high boots remained.

"H-Hey!" she gasped. "What the heck did you do?" Even in the washed-out color of the Grid, her blush was visible.

Flynn's hands remained at her sides as he gave her a playful smile and a shrug. "Just going with the flow, I guess... _and_ editing the code of your grid gear."

"Don't you think you should've asked me first?" she said with a huff.

"Sorry," he said, grinning sheepishly. "If it'll make you feel better, I can do the same with mine."

Flynn pressed his hand against the triangular symbol on his chest and the blue circuits on his suit began to glow. Then, he was bare from the waist up, save for a black harness which held his ID disc to his back.

"Does that help matters any, or...?" He trailed off, tilting his head with a grin which suggested he already anticipated how she'd feel about this.

Mia's blush deepened as she beheld Flynn's bare torso, which was decently built, with nice toned abs. Her hands came to his pecs as her fingers gently brushed through a light smattering of chest hair.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, flipping her over onto a glassy surface. At his silent command, the chair which he'd been reclining on had become a bed.

Mia lay on her back, gaping up at him. "H-How did you--"

"It's all... in... the wrists," he murmured as his hands trailed along her arms, pinning her wrists above her head. Flynn buried his face into the side of her neck, trailing kisses beneath her jaw.

Mia groaned, turning her head to the side and giving him more surface area to work with. Their fingers entwined above her head as Flynn trailed his kisses down along her clavicle until he came to the diamond-shaped cut-out above her chest. Just as his lips dipped inside, a voice rang out across the grid.

" _Greetings, User Ram_."

Followed by, "Jeez, Flynn! Is this what you do with the Grid when I'm not here?"

Mia gasped and shoved Flynn off of her.

"Hey! Oof!" Flynn fell off the bed.

"There are other people here?!" Mia squeaked.

The person standing at the control station was a rather nondescript young man with short, curly hair. He wore grid gear with green luminescent circuit patterns. He shook his head in disbelief.

"And now you're just making girl programs to mess around with? C'mon, Flynn. You're better than this."

"P-Program?" stammered Mia.

Flynn got up from the floor, placing his hand on his chest as his grid gear reconstructed itself.

"She's not a program, Ram. She's a real girl!"

_Ram?_ thought Mia. This was incredibly confusing to her, given the character, Ram, from the _Tron_ movie was a program, not a user.

Ram's mouth dropped open. "Oh... OH! Oh jeez, I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, didn't mean to, uh..."

"I-It's fine. It's not your fault," said Mia breathlessly. "It _is,_ however, _someone's_ fault." She turned an accusing glare on Flynn. "Seriously? You didn't tell me there'd be other users coming in here! What is this, Flynn?"

"I'm sorry," said Flynn, placing his hand on top of the glassy bed-shaped object, making it sink back into the Grid floor. "I didn't know anyone was going to come in here. _Usually..._ " He shot an annoyed glare at Ram. "HE MESSAGES ME FIRST!"

"Sorry. I just thought since you were in here I'd come in for a game or two. I didn't think you'd be..." Ram couldn't even say it, getting bashful at the very thought. "Jeez, Flynn!"

Flynn sighed, shaking his head. "Mia, this is my friend, Roy Kleinberg. Or, as I call him, Ram."

"Nickname," Ram explained with an embarrassed smile.

Now it made sense. While in the film, Ram was a program belonging to a man named Roy Kleinberg, here in Dizgaia, Roy Kleinberg simply went by the nickname Ram.

"H-Hi, Roy... uh, Ram. Nice to meet you, I guess. And now, of course, we can never meet again for the obvious reason of my absolute, total, utter embarrassment." She turned her gaze to Flynn. "Maybe I should go now. You know, considering..." She quirked her mouth to the side and darted her eyes meaningfully at Ram, then back to Flynn.

Flynn sighed, his shoulders slumping. Such an exhilarating night completely dashed. "Yeah, all right. I'll take you back." He gave Ram an exasperated look. "Hey, go ahead and get started. I'll be... back... I guess." He led Mia back to the platform upon which they'd stood when they first arrived. "Hang on."

In the blink of an eye, Mia and Flynn reappeared in Flynn's lab, standing on the platform in front of the digitizer laser. Mia was relieved to find herself back in her regular clothes.

"I'm sorry about him, Mia. I didn't know he was gonna come in, honest! But he's got his own digitizer at his work station all the way over in Agrabah. We play long distance video games rather a lot. I just didn't know he was coming in tonight. He usually tells me!"

"Look, it's... it's okay," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "Just, you know, kinda, sorta... okay, _really_ embarrassing. But whatever. It's okay. I'm not mad, just embarrassed. I really wish you'd have been more careful, you know? To be seen like that..."

Mia let out another nervous laugh and plopped herself into his chair, slowly turning herself back and forth in the swivel seat. She let out a long sigh, looking very much like a child who's just been denied dessert after supper.

Flynn leaned back against the edge of his work station console, with his arms crossed. At least the feeling was mutual. They were both rather miffed at having been denied that which could have been a very enjoyable night together.

"Um, so... exactly how far were you planning on... on taking things?" Mia asked, gazing bashfully at him from beneath her long lashes and waiting with baited breath for his answer.

Flynn honestly hadn't planned for things to get as far as they did. But since they did, he supposed he truly _had_ intended to make Mia his. He wanted her, quite badly. However, rather than tell her this, he just gave her a shrug.

"I guess we'll never know, now."

Mia's heart sank. It was the most nonchalant, non-committal, uncaring answer he could have possibly given her. Her expression become one of hurt. Then, hurt turned to anger. Mia rose to her feet in a fury and slapped him across the face.

"You are such a jerk, Kevin Flynn!"

She spun on her heel and ran from the room, holding back tears. The door slid shut behind her and Flynn placed a hand on his cheek. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the closed door where Mia had stormed out, then slowly moved to his empty desk chair as if someone still sat there.

"Was it something I said?"

CLU's stiff, automated voice replied, "Yes."

"Who asked you?" snapped Flynn.

Mia stormed down the lonely corridor beyond. She couldn't believe what Flynn had said. How could he be so nonchalant about it? Maybe it wasn't a big deal to him, but it certainly was for her! It was her first time... or _almost_ her first time.

She bypassed Blair's office. She could not trust herself to go in there without waking him up in her rage, and then she'd have to undertake the awkward task of explaining herself. Besides, she was too angry to sleep. Instead, she took the spiraling escalator to the atrium at the top of the glass pyramid.

This time of night, there was no one else up here. She had the atrium all to herself, with only the dim light of the lamps on the coffee tables spaced throughout the atrium and the lights from the city beyond the glass by which to see. Mia stood in front of the glass with her arms crossed. It certainly was beautiful, but not even the wonder of the city at night could soothe her anger. It was almost like Flynn didn't care at all. It seemed all he wanted was a spontaneous, one-time fool-around; a quick and easy piece.

For Mia, she'd thought she was having her very own fairytale romance, but to Flynn, it was just a one-night stand. Mia was furious that he'd taken advantage of her like that. It especially hurt because... because she really, _really_ liked him. Mia pounded her fist against the glass.

_Flynn, you jerk._


	13. Bonnie Appetite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice throughout the story that I'll make some fun references and allusions not only to Disney movies, but Disney Park rides, some of which no longer even exist. Some references are obvious, while others more obscure. Anyone remember (or heard of) Kitchen Kabaret in EPCOT's "The Land" Pavilion? If so, you'll definitely enjoy this little nod to that. For those who don't, this chapter will be weird AF, but still fun. If interested, I'd recommend looking up defunct Disney attractions. It's not a necessary prerequisite for reading/understanding this chapter, but it's a fun and interesting subject. ;)

Blair slept soundly throughout the night with a contented smile on his face. For the first time in a long time when having dreams about his beloved daughter, they didn't end with Beverly escaping through Alice's Looking Glass. Instead, he dreamed of the beautiful young woman his daughter had become, with the inquisitive mind that he was ever so proud of. He was so content, in fact, that even though sleeping at his desk wreaked havoc on his joints, he felt nothing but bliss upon wakening... that was, until he realized Miandra was nowhere to be found.

He shot up from his desk in a panic. She was gone! Had the Dark Ones found their way into the institute and stolen Miandra in the dead of night, or was she never truly here to begin with? Had it all just been an elaborate dream?

_No... Please... It can't be true!_

Blair threw open his office door and made a mad dash into the hallway beyond. At the sound of the door slamming shut, Figment opened a bleary eye and lifted his head.

"Huh? Dreamfinder?"

In a flurry, Blair ran through the halls, desperately seeking his daughter. "Miandra? Oh, Miandra, where have you gone?"

After an aimless scurry in what seemed a futile hope of finding his daughter, Blair was compelled to take the escalator to the atrium above and was soon thankful he had, for when he arrived at the top, he spotted her curled up on one of the couches.

"Oh, thank heavens," he breathed.

Mia was fast asleep. Not even the sound of the Imagineers on their coffee break had awakened her. Blair knelt down in front of the couch and trailed his fingers through her hair to convince himself that she was real.

Mia began to stir. "Nnn... What time izzit?" She opened her eyes, but it was not Edward Baxter's honey-brown eyes gazing back at her, but a pair identical to her own. She blinked. "Oh! Dreamfind... uh, Blair. I mean... Hi." Looking at him closer, she noticed he appeared rather winded. "Are you okay?"

Blair pulled her into a tight embrace. It had a sort of desperateness to it, almost as though he feared she might disappear if he let her go. "Yes, Miandra. Finer than I've been in a frightfully long time."

He held her at arms' length as he gave her the sternest gaze he could muster, which admittedly wasn't very stern. In fact, the look seemed on the brink of melting away. He didn't quite have it in him to be the kind of domineering father who scolded his children.

"I wish you wouldn't sneak off," he said. "You had me so worried!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I guess I just got a little... restless... last night."

"I'm just so happy that your coming home wasn't just a wonderful dream," he said, hugging her once more.

"Well, who knows? You're the Dreamfinder, right? Perhaps you dreamed I'd come home and called me forth into reality." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Boy, I hope you never have nightmares."

"Let's not ponder too hard on that notion, shall we?"

Mia found his response rather cryptic, but she readily agreed not to think about it.

"Well, now that we're both awake, I believe there's much to be done today. _So_ much to be done. Perhaps after we tidy ourselves up a bit, I could treat you to some breakfast."

"Oh boy! Breakfast would be swell, Dreamfinder!" Never far behind, Figment had caught up with his master.

"Right you are, Figment. After all, it's the most important meal of the day."

Mia's stomach let out a hungry growl. "Yeah, breakfast sounds great. As for tidying up..." She gestured to her clothes which were wrinkled from a night's sleep and stained from being kicked to the curb by the Tremaine sisters. "I'm not exactly looking spiffy for meeting royalty, nor did I bring a suitcase of clothes with me to Dizgaia, seeing as it was a rather... impromptu trip."

"Oh dear," Blair remarked as he appraised her. "I suppose that fact had slipped my mind. Well, no matter! We can get those cleaned up while you do the same for yourself. We have a means to do that, after all."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Figment, twirling in the air. "With the power of imagination!"

"Well, I was actually talking about the institute's laundry room, but I suppose you're not entirely wrong," he said, giving Figment a knowing wink. "Just come with me, dear. We'll make you right as rain in no time."

Blair led Mia out of the atrium and back down the escalator. "On the occasions when the Imagineers decide to work overtime on their projects, we have facilities to accommodate an overnight stay," he explained.

On their way to Blair's office, they encountered many folks who bid Professor Mercurial a cheerful good morning. Everyone seemed to know and respect him. Mia noticed many people were also stopping to stare at her. In fact, some of them were gaping at her in much the same way she'd gaped at Jeffrey the penguin yesterday.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Are people staring? I didn't notice, dear. I suppose it's because--"

"Professor Mercurial! Good morning, sir. Good morning!" It was the scientist who had chastised Flynn when he and Mia had first arrived at the Imagination Institute via the light cycle.

"Dr. Channing," said Blair with an amiable smile. "You seem to be in a rather chipper mood this morning. Might I ask the occasion?"

Grinning, Dr. Channing turned his gaze to Mia. "As if you didn't already know, sir. The entire campus is buzzing since word got out that the girl Flynn brought here with him is none other than your long-lost daughter!"

_Ah,_ thought Mia. _Now it all makes sense._ That explained the reason everyone was staring at her.

Dr. Channing took Mia's hand in his, shaking it enthusiastically. "Miss Mercurial, we weren't properly introduced before. I'm Dr. Nigel Channing, chairman of the Imagination Institute. It's an absolute pleasure to see you again after so, so long."

"Oh, uh, thanks, Dr. Channing. It's nice to meet you, too." Somewhat flustered, Mia cast a glance at her father. "Are we famous or something? Because, I mean, it seems to be a pretty big deal that I've returned, doesn't it? Not that I _don't_ think it's a big deal that we've reunited," she added quickly. "It's just that I didn't expect so many people to... well, react this way."

"Well," said Blair, "That's—"

"Oh, but of course!" said Dr. Channing. "Your father is one of the most well-respected people, not just here at the institute or Cerenopia, but the entire world! _Everyone_ knows Professor Blarion Mercurial. And if they don't know _that_ name, they definitely know _The Dreamfinder._ "

"Wow," said Mia, beaming up at her father.

Blair smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nigel, I do think you're exaggerating slightly."

"Nonsense, sir! You're respected and admired the whole world over for everything you've done for Dizgaia. And as such..." Channing's gaze returned to Mia once more. "Everyone, especially in Cerenopia, knows what happened... _that night_."

"I'm just happy I was too young to remember it," said Mia with a shudder.

She wasn't alone in her discomfort. Blair very much wished he could put that fateful night behind him. But he wasn't likely to forget the night that Maleficent tried to kill his family; the night which led him to losing his wife and daughter a short while later. Now, he had his daughter back, but with that joy also came a looming threat. Perhaps a change of subject was at hand.

"So, Nigel... how are things carrying out at the Imageworks this morning?"

"Well, most of the projects are continuing on schedule. Though Szalinski, I'm afraid, has shrunk his children again, and I'm pretty sure that McCrae and V.I.N.Cent keep making jokes about me via E.S.P."

"Business as usual, then?" asked Blair with a chuckle.

With an exasperated sigh, Channing nodded. "Yes, it's business as usual. I mean, _honestly_... is it too much to ask for a bit of professionalism?"

Smiling, Blair placed a hand on Channing's shoulder. "Oh, but you know having fun is all a part of the wonders of discovery, Nigel. I think you could afford to have a little bit of fun, yourself."

"Yeah, Doc!" cried Figment circling Dr. Channing's head. "Slap a smile on and let your imagination flow free!"

"Ahem. Yes, quite," Channing sniffed, as though he found Figment rather exasperating. "Well, I'd best be off. Much to do, much to do." He nodded at Mia. "Miss Mercurial, again, welcome back."

"Thanks."

Nigel went on his way and they on theirs. When they returned to her father's office, Mia followed Blair to the large bookshelf at the back of the room. He pulled a book entitled, _A History of Indoor Plumbing,_ from the shelf, triggering a mechanism which caused the entire bookshelf to slide backwards and to the side, revealing a secret bathroom with full facilities.

"Wow. It's like something out of Bram Stroker's Dracula or Mary Shelley's Frankenstein if they had a secret bathroom," said Mia amusedly. "Nice touch of humor there with the trigger book."

"Yes, I do believe it was a clever thought on my part," said Blair, chuckling. "This came about one time when all the overnight dorms were taken for a couple days straight. So I had this lovely little hideaway built in. It's terribly convenient, seeing as I'm essentially here all the time."

This confirmed what Naveen had said to her last night – that Blair practically lived at the institute. This needed to change. Mia would have to talk to her father about that later. For now, though, she would gladly shower.

"By all means, go on in and get cleaned up," said Blair, motioning her inside. "Once you've started, Figment and I will get your clothes taken care of."

"Yeah, yeah!" said Figment, always eager to lend a hand. "We'll make 'em like new! You'll see!"

"Thanks."

Blair and Figment gave Mia her privacy so she could doff her clothes and step into the shower. Luckily, it seemed showers were more or less the same anywhere you went, including alternate dimensions, so Mia was able to operate it without trouble. Once she was safely hidden behind the curtain, Figment grabbed her discarded clothes and carried them out.

"Dreamfinder, Miandra really seems to want something better to wear when we go to see Princess Cindy. Is there anything we can do to help her?"

"Hmm," said Blair, stroking his beard. "Maybe we can, Figment, maybe we can. But for now, let's focus on getting Miandra's clothes cleaned up."

"With our imaginations?"

"If you insist," said Blair with a chuckle. He collected Miandra's clothes into his arms and sang quietly. "Clothes are a mess... A laundry pile... We'll clean them up... It won't take a while..."

A swirl of magical energy lifted the clothes into the air. Blair extended his hand and twirled his index finger in small circles. The levitating clothes began to churn in a mix of colors.

"Spin in the air... with water and detergent..."

A splash of water came from out of nowhere, along with a dose of detergent, adding itself to the magical midair laundry swirl. With a flash of color, Mia's clothes were clean, and amazingly dry as well.

"A finished chore... No longer urgent!"

Mia's clothes fluttered down into his arms, folding themselves neatly.

Figment clapped. "Wow, wow, Dreamfinder! That was great!"

"I think our friend, Ms. Poppins, couldn't have done it better herself," said Blair with a grin.

Figment gathered up the clothes and slipped into the bathroom. The shower was still running, a blurry silhouette the only thing to be seen behind its curtain. Figment set Mia's clothes upon the bath mat and quietly slipped back out, closing the door behind him.

Normally a fan of long showers, nothing could keep Mia in there for long today. There was simply too much to do. The day held much promise for adventure and excitement, and Mia was eager to get on with it. When she stepped out of the shower, she found her clothes – clean, dry, and freshly pressed.

_Wow, that was fast._

She exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. Blair and Figment were waiting for her in the office.

"Thanks," she said, gesturing to her clothes. "Though, if I'm to stay here, I'll probably have to go shopping at some point. I can't wear the same thing every day. There wouldn't happen to be a foreign currency exchange here for Earth money, would there?"

"It's nothing to worry about, Miandra. When we have some time, I could get you some new clothes. In fact, we could certainly make a day of it." Blair hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling a tad self conscious. "Sort of a father-daughter day, perhaps?"

Blair didn't know much about spending time with a teenage daughter. Was that even something teenage girls liked to do? But Mia's reaction soon assuaged his worries.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. "That would be awesome! I bet there are tons of awesome shops in Cerenopia, right?"

Mia unraveled the towel from her head and let her long auburn hair cascade down around her. Blair's heart nearly stopped. He was reminded quite painfully of Beverly, who had very similar hair to Miandra's. How often had Beverly taken her hair down from a towel after a shower for it to fall down around her in much the same manner? In those moments, he'd always marveled at how beautiful his wife was. Now, he did the same as he gazed at Miandra. He was proud to have such a beautiful daughter, but her similarities to Beverly could be unexpectedly painful at times.

Mia stood, dripping on the rug in the center of the room. She closed her eyes tightly, skewing her face in concentration.

"Uh, what're you doing, Miandra?" asked Figment.

"Trying to imagine my hair dry," Mia replied, slowly opening her eyes. "Did it work?"

She checked her hair, only to see it was still damp.

"Well, it was worth a try at any rate," she sighed. "It would seem just because I'm in a magical world doesn't mean I've developed magical powers."

"It's just as well, dear. While I admit to a bit of cheating with washing and drying your clothes, which was at Figment's insistence and in the interest of time, I believe there's something to be said about completing tasks with your bare hands, the old-fashioned way."

Blair placed his hand against the side of her head and gently trailed his fingers through her damp locks. "Our imaginations aren't there to help us skip to the end, but rather to light the way through every twist, turn, up and down along the way. And when we reach that end via our own mettle, there's a true sense of accomplishment waiting there for us."

"That's quite a profound argument for using a hair dryer," Mia teased, though she appreciated his philosophy for how it was intended. "I suppose imagination power is no excuse for being lazy."

"No, indeed. However, with a spark like yours, I have no doubt you have the gift of imagination power. After all," he said proudly. "You're a Dreamfinder's daughter."

"I don't exactly feel the magic coursing through me or anything yet. It'd be nice if it started to manifest itself sometime soon. You said you'd teach me, right?"

"Of course! The light of imagination is already inside you! I'll gladly be your guide in helping you unleash its fullest potential."

Mia's eyes sparkled with excitement. It was at this moment Blair realized he would do anything to see those eyes sparkle. He would do anything to make this girl smile, to see his only child happy. Perhaps he was the sort of parent that would dote on and spoil his daughter, but so be it. He had 18 years to catch up on. Mia was already so grown up. It wasn't as if he could go back and raise her all over again. But becoming her teacher, her mentor, and even her friend... perhaps that would be good enough.

They were interrupted by a mighty rumbling sound nearby. They glanced at the small dragon hovering by the door. Figment rubbed his belly as though trying to soothe a wild animal.

"Could we get some breakfast first? I'm really hungry!"

Blair let out a jovial chuckle. "I think we can all agree on that, Figment. Shall we?"

Mia followed her father and Figment into the corridor beyond. They were just passing Flynn's office when the door came open and the man himself stepped out. Mia stopped short as they came face to face in the hallway.

"Oh! Uh... H-Hey, Mia. Um... What's uh... What's the good word?"

His greeting was awkward at best. It was clear he hadn't forgotten the events of last night. Neither had Mia, for that matter. She returned his gaze with a cool stare of her own.

"Hi," she said tonelessly.

Flynn winced. It was clear she was still upset with him and more than content to give him the cold shoulder. Oh, it was agony having those eyes in that pretty face and that whole wonderful package of _the dream girl_ glaring at him in such a manner. If only he could somehow go back in time and fix his mistake from last night. He wanted very much to clear the air with Mia. Only one thing was standing in his way – or one man, rather.

Blair, oblivious, greeted Flynn warmly. "Good morning, Kevin. You're up and about early."

Flynn gulped nervously as he locked eyes with Professor Mercurial, the jolly ol' Dreamfinder. If this man knew just what had happened between his daughter and him...

"Heh. Yeah, about that..." said Flynn, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was, um, doing my thing a bit late last night, man, and, uh, well, some mistakes were made. I, uh, didn't get much sleep last night. I crashed in my work room and, uh..."

Blair furrowed his brow. Flynn seemed out of sorts this morning, and uncharacteristically nervous. He glanced at Miandra, who was giving Flynn the stink-eye. This seemed rather cold treatment of the man who'd rescued her from Gaston and the Goons.

"Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Wh-Whattya mean?" Flynn asked, laughing nervously. "What could you possibly miss?"

"Well, we're going to get breakfast," said Mia before Blair could say anything else. "See you." With that terse farewell, she grabbed Blair's arm and pulled him down the hallway.

"Uh, sure," said Flynn, slumping his shoulders as he watched them go. "Wouldn't want to hold ya up." This situation was a mess. He'd have to try and find a chance to get Mia alone and clean up this misunderstanding. But with Professor Mercurial with her, now was _definitely_ not the time.

Blair was a touch concerned as his daughter dragged him down the hallway. "Miandra, I couldn't help but notice how unusually awkward that all was. Considering that last I knew Flynn was the one who rescued you, I thought you'd be more... well, polite around him, I suppose. Is something the matter?"

Mia flushed. There was a small part of her that felt guilty for how she'd treated him. After all, Blair was right. Flynn had saved her. Nevertheless, that didn't excuse his behavior the previous night. Mia couldn't bring herself to look at her father as she answered.

"Flynn's just a jerk out looking for a good time with no consideration at all for anyone else's feelings. It's like he can't fathom that a girl might be looking for something more than just..." She trailed off and cast a furtive glance at her father. "Uh, look, just don't worry about it, all right? I'd rather not talk about it."

Blair stopped cold in his tracks as her words sunk into his mind. _Flynn... jerk... good time... no consideration for feelings... girl looking for something more..._ Suddenly, a look came to his face, one which was quite indescribable, simply because it was a look that had never before appeared on The Dreamfinder's face.

"Uh oh," said Figment fluttering at Mia's shoulder. "That's not a good face."

Blair spun on his heel. "What has he done to my daughter?!" he roared.

Mia smacked a hand to her face. She'd said too much. She hadn't intended to. It just sort of slipped out. And now, if she didn't act quickly, her father was about to do something drastic. Mia grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't," she begged. "Please don't do this. Just stay out of it. Don't be that kind of father, okay? Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not a little girl. I'm an adult and can handle my own... relationship type issues. Okay?"

"Relationship?" Blair croaked.

"Besides," said Mia, ignoring him. "Nothing happened. Honest. Please, just leave it be, all right? Anyhow, I'd rather not start our father-daughter day like this."

Blair's temper dissipated. Now he looked more confused than anything. It was apparent he didn't know how to handle this situation. For a moment, he gazed helplessly at his daughter. 

"I guess I wasn't entirely prepared for this sort of news this morning," he said with a sigh. "I... suppose you are an adult who can make her own decisions, but relationship issues? With Flynn?"

"Well, I suppose _relationship_ is going a bit far," Mia admitted. "I barely know him. I mean... well, it's weird, isn't it? I know him in a manner of speaking, perhaps better than a stranger should know another stranger... you know, because of the Disney movies and stuff. But we really only just met yesterday."

"Yes, Miandra. Which is why I really don't think you and he should—"

"I went to his office last night to thank him for saving me and he introduced me to Grid Games," she explained. "We played and had a really good time. And it seemed like he, you know, really liked me."

Blair didn't know what to say. Truth be told, he'd always possessed a fondness for Kevin Flynn. Dr. Channing was always giving the young man a hard time, but Blair thought Flynn was one of the brightest Imagineers they had. That was part of the reason he gave Flynn the task of going through the Rainbow Corridor and making contacts on Earth, a task which the young man had been at for quite some time. But was he ready for the knowledge that his daughter and Flynn were...

"And if I were to be completely honest, I do rather like him myself, but, well, one thing led to another and..." Mia trailed off as she realized she was offering an explanation she didn't wish to give. "Ugh. Look, I don't want to talk about this with _you_ of all people – no offense. I'll figure this out on my own, okay? For now, leave Flynn alone and let's go eat. I'm starving."

Mia took Blair by the arm and dragged him down the hallway, though she could only go so far before he had to take the lead, as she didn't quite know where she was going. Blair said nothing further on the matter. Perhaps it was best to leave it alone for now. After all, having a parental freak-out was no way to start their father-daughter day.

The cafeteria was huge and pristine. It was exactly what Mia would have expected of a place like the Imagination Institute, save for the strange, shimmering platform in the center of the room. This seemed to be a focal point, as all the tables in the cafeteria were arranged in concentric circles around it. Food was available at multiple buffet lines where servers gladly dished out anything one could want. There were a variety of dishes available; dishes from all around the world, in fact. But, of course, there was also the typical fare.

Blair gladly partook of some coffee, orange juice, sausage, eggs, and a muffin, while Figment carried a plate with twice his weight in food piled precariously on top. Mia followed them, procuring for herself a much less hearty breakfast than her father and dragon companion. They all took a seat at a table not far from the shimmering platform.

"What _is_ that thing?" Mia asked as she shoveled some scrambled eggs into her mouth.

Blair took a sip of his coffee. "Oh, that? Well..."

Suddenly, the lights in the cafeteria dimmed to almost total darkness.

"Oh! Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I do believe you're about to find out, Miandra."

The sound of slow Blues music began to play throughout the cafeteria. Then, a single spotlight came on, illuminating a woman who had arrived silently in the cover of dark. She was an attractive woman, though at the moment she was dressed in a rather homely manner. Her garb consisted of a long-sleeved blouse and a long skirt, both of which were rather bland in color. Her blond hair was done up in a bun, and she gave the impression of a 1950s housewife. The woman sat alone on a stool in the middle of the large platform. She gave an audible sigh as she addressed those dining around her.

"Oh, dear... It's time for another meal."

Whistles and shouts from the diners followed.

"Yeah!"

"Bonnie!"

"Whoo!"

Even Figment was among those cheering, sticking his fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly. Mia cocked an eyebrow, her fork hovering at her lips.

"Okay... Wasn't expecting _that._ What is this? Some sort of cabaret?"

Blair simply motioned towards the stage as the woman began to belt out a somber Blues tune in a surprisingly soulful voice.

"Yes, there are days when I feel downcast  
And I get the mealtime blues  
If I don't plan a proper meal  
My menu will be bad news..."

The woman brought a hand to her brow as if she were trying to fend off a migraine as she continued.

"Oh, the mealtime blues can get you  
Every time you dine  
But we can all beat that rap  
And end up feeling fine..."

Mia had paused in her eating to watch. The woman had a good voice; a strong, sexy alto, but she could still hit all the high notes when necessary. Gradually, the woman's expression began to change, her somber countenance melting away as a smile lit up her face.

"So, on those days when we feel downcast  
I'll give you all some clues  
To work magic in our kitchen  
Mmm, yeah... And chase away the mealtime blues..."

More cheers and whistles filled the cafeteria as the woman hopped down from the stool and belted out one more stanza of the somber blues tune.

"Now the timing's right  
The show's prepared  
Let me serve it on up to yooouuu..."

Cheers and applause erupted throughout the cafeteria as the platform was once more plunged into darkness. Figment, along with a few others, chanted the woman's name.

"Bonnie! Bonnie! Bonnie!"

Mia applauded politely. The woman was good, but Mia was still left feeling somewhat confused. She glanced at her father.

"Uh, so is this like a regular occurrence at mealtimes around here?"

Blair leaned close to speak over the sounds of the cheers. "Oh, just you wait," he said. "They're only getting started."

Mia quirked an eyebrow. "They?"

Soon, it was revealed just who _they_ were. Lively percussion began to play, and from the darkness Bonnie called out, "Okay, Crackpots! Let's... get... cookin'!"

The platform was fully illuminated once more and Mia's eyes were treated to the sight of a full band. But it wasn't so much that it was a band that had Mia startled. It was that the band was made up of anthropomorphic fruits, vegetables, and kitchenware – and they were playing a kicking ragtime tune. Mia's jaw dropped and a bit of scrambled egg fell from her fork onto her plate.

"What the fu—"

"Yay!" Figment exclaimed happily. "This is my favorite part!"

Bonnie reappeared, dressed in a completely different outfit. She was now sporting a sparkly blue showgirl tuxedo jacket and a surprisingly formfitting skirt behind a short, frilly apron with fashionable stockings on her long, shapely legs, ending in a pair of high-heeled shoes. Her hair was no longer in a bun, but hanging freely just above the base of her neck as she sang with the musical accompaniment of the instrument-playing food and cookware. Her expression had certainly changed to a livelier one, beginning this new tune with a sassy, almost seductive smile.

"Thank you folks for coming to my kitchen  
As I sing the praise of good nutrition  
Eating balanced meals can keep you fit, feeling grand  
A variety at your three meals  
Can only improve the way you feel."

Figment had abandoned his food entirely as he hovered above the table, dancing in the air. Even the Dreamfinder was bobbing to the song with a wide smile as he watched the crazy performance occurring in front of them. The music was great, and so was Bonnie, but Mia couldn't get over her shock (or was it horror?) over the band members. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the show. For something that would appear to be routine or at least semi-routine around here, it seemed the mealtime audiences had yet to become desensitized to it. Still, to Mia, it felt like something of a mad house.

"The basic food groups make a perfect team  
When balanced, they are held in high esteem  
Dairy, bread, and cereals  
Meat, fruit, and vegetables..."

Bonnie came forward once more, standing at the edge of the platform, which just so happened to be in direct line of sight of their table. She seemed to give Mia a wink (or was she perhaps winking at Blair?) before belting out the last part of the song.

"They'll help you chase those blues  
Those lowdown mealtime blues  
They'll help you chase those blues awaaaay!"

When it came to an end, everyone cheered. Blair and Figment were the most enthusiastic in their applause, Figment giving another whistle. Bonnie smiled and bowed, as did the Crackpots behind her.

"Thank you! Thank you! I hope you enjoyed that bit of kitchen cabaret. I'm Bonnie Appetite. Enjoy your meals, everyone!"

As the lights returned to full illumination, the true nature of the bizarre band behind Bonnie became clear. Now with the proper lighting returned to the cafeteria, Mia saw they were transparent. They fizzled and faded away, and finally Mia understood – they were merely holographic images.

"Ohhh," said Mia, applauding and laughing. "Okay, _now_ I get it."

"Bravo, Bonnie! Bravo!" cried Blair.

The aptly named Bonnie Appetite spotted him. With a dazzling smile and a quick fix of her hair, she hurried to their table. Up close and personal now, Mia could see that Bonnie was, in fact, a touch older than she had initially seemed. Still, she was nonetheless a very attractive woman.

"Blair!" Bonnie greeted somewhat breathlessly.

Mia lifted an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between Bonnie and Blair. This was the first person she'd heard address her father by his first name. Interesting.

"It's been a while since you've come in time to watch a performance," said Bonnie. "It's great to see you!"

"I decided it was high time that I stopped in again," Blair replied, his smile broadening. "After all, what would a tour of the Imagination Institute be without a stop to enjoy Bonnie Appetite's Kitchen Kabaret?"

"A tour, you say?" Slowly, her gaze moved to Miandra and she gasped. "Oh yes! This must be little Miandra... but not so little anymore! Look at you! A young woman now! And such a looker, too! You must be very proud, Blair."

The Dreamfinder took hold of his lapels and held himself proudly, smiling a handsome smile to his daughter as Bonnie took her hand and shook it enthusiastically.

"Welcome back, Miandra! You probably don't remember me. The last time I saw you, you were only a year old. It's so wonderful to have you back, dear! Did you enjoy the show?"

"At first, I didn't know what to make of it, but yes, it was very entertaining. You have a beautiful voice. I can certainly say I've never seen a performance quite like that before."

Bonnie laughed and waved her off in an _Oh, stop, you,_ sort of manner. "So flattering and articulate, too. I can see you take after your father, Miandra," she said, casting a smiling glance at Blair.

Now it was Blair's turn to get embarrassed. "Come, now..." he said with a pinkish tint in his cheeks.

"That was great, Bonnie!" said Figment. "I always love it when the holy-graphic imageries appear! It really gets good then!"

"Figment and I both think you could do so much more than sing here, Bonnie. As much as we love you here at the Institute, I think you could share your beautiful talents with a broader audience."

Figment nodded. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Take your show on the road!"

It was Bonnie's turn to blush. "Oh, Blair... Figment... You guys are just so sweet. I appreciate the compliment, and it _has_ occurred to me once or twice to try, but I just don't know... I suppose I find it a little intimidating. Besides," she said, tucking a stray blonde hair behind her ear, "I think I'd really miss everyone here at the Imagination Institute far too much to leave."

Bonnie gave Blair a meaningful look, one which Mia distinctly caught. She stole a glance at her father to see what he made of it. Rather quickly, Mia discovered that, for as deeply as Blair was paying attention to Bonnie, he wasn't truly _seeing_ just what was reallyin front of him. He merely gave a jovial chuckle and offered the woman a warm, friendly smile.

"Well, as long as you're with us, we're all very happy to have you here," he said. "Your spark in the culinary and performing arts burns brightly. And I know I speak for all of us when I say I can't wait to see what you _cook up_ next."

Blair's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave Bonnie the warmest of smiles. There was no hint of exaggeration in his tone and smile. He was, as usual, nothing but truly genuine... but at the same time, he was completely oblivious.

Bonnie tried not to look disappointed, but Mia could see it, and she knew exactly where the disappointment came from. It was her father's words, _We're_ all _very happy to have you here,_ and _speak for_ all _of us,_ when it had been clear – at least to Mia – that Bonnie had been speaking specifically of him. It was yet another thing her father hadn't picked up on.

"Thank you, Blair. That's very kind," said Bonnie, her tone now a little less chipper. She cast a glance at Mia and blushed. "Well, I'm sure the two of you have plenty of catching up to do, so I'd best let you enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you, Bonnie," said Blair, clearly missing the subtle fluctuation in her voice. "You have a wonderful day as well!"

Figment waved emphatically with a mouthful of breakfast. "G'bye, Bwonnie!"

Mia felt bad for Bonnie. Perhaps Blair _could_ like her. Perhaps deep down he _did_ like her. Maybe all he needed was to be made aware of Bonnie's feelings. Mia was more than up for the task.

"That woman's got it bad for you."

Blair was just about to shovel a forkful of eggs into his mouth when Mia hit him with her observation. His fork paused, hovering at his lips. "Pardon? What are you talking about, Miandra?"

Mia sighed, shaking her head. Either the expression she'd used wasn't one Dizgaians were familiar with, or Blair was just dense. Mia was willing to bet on the latter.

"She's got the hots for you," she said. "She has a thing for you. She's crushing on you. Bonnie _likes_ you... like _likes you_ likes you. Do you get it?"

The Dreamfinder wore an expression that was rarely seen on his face – an expression of utter confusion, a true indication that he had no idea what Mia was talking about. Even after she laid it all out, he looked like someone who'd just gotten a snowball thrown at them in the middle of summer. He glanced in the direction Bonnie had gone, but she'd already disappeared into the kitchen.

"You think that Bonnie..." A small flush appeared on his cheeks, blending into his beard. "Miandra, don't be absurd. Bonnie couldn't possibly have those sorts of... No, that's out of the question," he said, returning to his meal.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Ugh... Men are so oblivious. I'm telling you, Blair, the woman likes you. But hey, what do I know? I'm only a woman myself."

Blair chewed thoughtfully. In his mind, the idea of anyone harboring that sort of interest in him was preposterous. Certainly, people liked and respected him. Some even looked up to him as a sort of father figure. But what Miandra was suggesting seemed a little far-fetched. Surely, if Bonnie had any sort of inclination towards him, he'd notice. After all, he was usually an expert at noticing even the subtlest of details.

His gaze trailed back towards the kitchen once more. He began to wonder... Did Miandra see something _he_ didn't? He supposed the idea of _anyone_ feeling that way about him wasn't a possibility he'd contemplated. Not since Beverly.

Mia decided not to push the issue as she finished her breakfast. She was more than happy to keep her father to herself for the time being. Besides, she had other things on her mind – namely, exploring and shopping.

"So," she said with her mouth full. "Where are we going today? I mean, you said you'd buy me something nice to wear to see the princesses. And I'd love to see more of the city – properly, this time."

"Well, I figured I'd take you over to Main Street, myself. It really is a beautiful city, but it's so large and busy that it can be easy to get lost when you don't know your way. Perhaps we can take the Dream..." He trailed off, his excited expression dwindling. "Oh. No, I suppose we couldn't do that. The Dream Machine hasn't run for a very long time. It's been locked up back at my old workshop ever since you and your mother left."

"The Dream Machine?" Mia asked with an inquisitive tilt of her head. "What's that? Oh! You mean that dirigible thing? I saw stucco images of it in the Imagination Pavilion where the old ride used to be. So, it's no longer functioning? That's a shame. It could've been fun." Mia frowned twirling her fork around in what remained of her breakfast. "I suppose you don't have a car or anything?"

"Not with me, no. It's back in the old garage, and I very much doubt it's working at the moment."

"Oh," said Mia, trying not to sound disappointed. "Well, that's okay. It's no big deal. We could just take the monorail. That thing's pretty fast. And this time I won't have to worry about encountering any violent skanks who might try to beat me up 'cause you'll be with me." She smiled at him with bits of toast crumbs in the corner of her mouth.

Blair smiled as he reached across the table and brushed the crumbs away from her mouth. Mia blushed. If her father back on Earth had done that, she would have chastised him with all the annoyance of an embarrassed teenage daughter. But with Blair, the father she'd only just met after their tragic separation 18 long years ago, she couldn't bear to scold him. So, she allowed it for now.

"Well," he said, "The monorail _is_ reliable, but it's not overly scenic. Plus, it's over so quickly. I'd love to show you a real bird's eye view of Epcot and Main Street... Though it would be a matter of figuring out how we could."

Figment's big yellow eyes grew wide as he thrust his hand into the air. "Oooh! Oooh! I've got it!" he cried, muffin crumbs tumbling from his mouth. "I know what to do!"

"What did you have in mind, Figment?"

Giggling with childish delight, Figment replied, "We use our imaginations, of course!"

"Is that your answer for everything?" asked Mia with an equal amount of amusement and exasperation.

Blair, however, seemed rather taken with the suggestion. "An absolutely brilliant idea, Figment!"

Mia glanced back and forth between them. "Okay, so are either of you going to explain how we're doing this, or are you going to be vague for whimsy's sake? Because I'll admit, I have _no_ idea what you're getting at."

Blair smiled as he gathered up their breakfast trays. "Since we're finished with our meals, let's head outside and I'll show you just what I mean."

Figment clapped his hands and flew after them. "Oh boy! Oh boy!"

"Aww, come on! Just tell me," Mia begged. "The suspense is gonna kill me!"

Blair led Mia out of the Imagination Institute and onto the front lawn of the campus where the leap-frog fountains shot streams of water from one fountain to the other. In a large, open area, Blair came to a stop.

"This is where I show you Imagination Power at its fullest," said Blair. "Step back and watch, dear." Then, turning to face his dragon, "Figment, it's been a long time, my friend. Are you up to this?"

The small dragon nodded vigorously. "With our imaginations, we can be ready for anything!"

Blair closed his eyes. Figment did the same. For the briefest of moments, Mia, daughter of the legendary Dreamfinder, saw just what said legend could do. A beautiful iridescent light shone around her father and Figment. It was bright, yet not blinding. It was warm, welcoming, stimulating, and invigorating all at once.

Mia glanced around at the people milling about campus, but they didn't seem to notice anything. It was then Mia realized that apart from Blair and Figment, she was the only one who could see this light. She felt a sort of tingling in the air, something akin to but not quite like static electricity. Mia knew this must be the feeling of magic in the air, and she could swear she heard a familiar tune carried on the breeze around them, one Edward Baxter would easily recognize.

_One Little Spark_.

With a bright flash of light and a swirl of purple mist, the tiny dragon was gone, and in his place stood a marvelous creature covered in shiny purple scales with large, orange wings and long, thick, curling horns. With the power of Blair and Figment's conjoined imaginations, Figment had transformed into a noble steed, formidable in size and majestic in appearance.

A gentleman walking across campus caught sight of the transformation. Gawking, he took a header into one of the fountains and came up sputtering. Blair opened his eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath. It worked. Their sparks were just as aligned as ever. Blair shook his head and staggered backwards just slightly. It took much imagination power to invoke this transformation in Figment.

Entranced, Mia drew closer to the dragon, gasping in awe at the sight of him. She reached out a hand to pet his muzzle, but hesitated, taking a nervous step backwards.

"Is it... Is it still him?" she asked warily.

The lilac dragon slowly turned his head to her and replied, "Of course it's still me! Who do you think it is?"

The voice was unmistakably Figment's, though it had a more rumbling, growling quality to it now. Furthermore, his mouth did not move when he spoke. Rather, the voice seemed to be emanating from within him, almost like telepathy.

"Whoa..." Mia murmured, taking another step forward and stroking his majestic nose. "Sorry, Figment. It's just that you look so... formidable." She looked at her father. "Am I to understand we'll be riding Figment 2.0 to Main Street???"

Blair nodded as he lowered his goggles from his top hat and pulled them down over his eyes. "That's precisely what I had in mind, Miandra. That is, if Figment is feeling up to it."

Figment nodded his large, sleek head. "Of course, Dreamfinder! I'm readier than ever! C'mon! Let's go!" He spread his large orange wings and gave them a solid flap. The sound was like the snap of a giant Teflon tent. He lowered himself to one knee so they could climb aboard.

Blair looked at his daughter with a warm smile which radiated the promise of pure, unadulterated fun. "Shall we be off?"

Mia hesitated. "Er... I mean, the idea of it _is_ pretty exciting, but..." She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. "Well, obviously I've never ridden a dragon before. It's a little... intimidating."

She took a nervous step towards her father who stood beside Figment with his goggles over his eyes and his hand extended to her. With an equal amount of excitement and reluctance, Mia took his hand and allowed him to help her onto Figment, using Figment's bent knee as a sort of step ladder.

Blair set Mia astride the base of Figment's thick, scaly neck. Mia wrapped her arms around it as best she could as her father took a seat behind her.

"Y-You won't let me fall off, r-right?"

"We'd never let anything happen to you, Miandra. I promise," said Blair as he reached forward and took a hold of Figment's neck. In this manner, he was able to keep Mia enclosed safely between him and his arms.

"Yeah, Miandra! I'd never let you fall. You can count on me!"

The Dreamfinder leaned forward and spoke softly. "Hold on, dear. Off we go, Figment!"

With that, Figment's wings, which were certainly no longer tiny, began to flap, lifting them off the ground.

"Hee hee! Everyone ready? Here... we... gooooo!"


	14. The Mad Hacker

Mia tried to feel reassured by Blair and Figment's promises not to let her fall, but riding a giant flying dragon bareback for the first time didn't exactly inspire confidence. As Figment's large wings beat the air, sending dust and bits of debris up around them, Mia closed her eyes and buried her face against his scaly neck. She could feel them lifting off the ground and began to scream the way one might on a roller coaster ride – in a mix of fear and excitement.

At first, Mia was too afraid to look, but eventually curiosity won the battle against fear and she took a peek. They were quite high now, but Blair's arms were wrapped securely around her and there was such an amazing view that she was too distracted to give into fear again. Mia gazed about her in wonder. Yes, this was most definitely better than riding the monorail. From this bird's eye view – or dragon's eye view, as it were – she was able to see the entirety of the expansive, futuristic metropolis spread out below her. She could see almost everything, even the castle in the distant mountains.

"This is amazing!" she shouted over the rush of wind.

Soon, they were soaring over the geodesic sphere, the facets of which sparkled in the morning sunlight. This was the first time Mia had been this close to it. Not only was it much larger than its counterpart in Disney World, but Mia noticed it gave off a curious humming sound.

"What _is_ that thing anyway?" she asked, shouting above the wind. "In Disney World it's an attraction called Spaceship Earth. But what is it here? Why is it humming?"

"That, Miandra, is a gift left to us from the very ancient past, to help us build a solid future. It is something of an energy source, meant to help us pave our roads to the future and help bring worlds together – almost literally. It's been here longer than even Cerenopia has existed as a kingdom!"

"I... see."

What more could she say? She didn't entirely understand what he'd just said; though it almost made sense, but in a very vague way. It seemed to her like he either didn't know the details or, for some reason, didn't wish to fully explain. From what he _did_ say, it sounded like this structure must house the necessary means of connecting Earth and Dizgaia to form the utopia the ambassadors had been trying to create. But as for how was anyone's guess. Perhaps she would drill him more on it later.

They continued to soar over Epcot. Mia gazed down at the city in all its luxurious splendor. Beyond were mountains, rivers, and valleys and all manner of natural beauty, but that was quite a way off. Here, she was soaring over the heart of Cerenopian civilization. Gradually, the futuristic metropolis gave way to a more contemporary city, something that simultaneously possessed the charm of small-town America mixed with bustling New Orleans and a smattering of modern technology combined with a distinct Renaissance vibe. This was Main Street, the capital of Cerenopia, and it was a stark contrast from the metallic and glass structures of Epcot.

Below, Mia could make out cobblestone streets and another jazz marching band passing by a familiar block – the same, in fact, where Tiana and Naveen's restaurant sat. But now Mia was granted a much broader view of Main Street than the brief glimpse she'd been given during her escape from the Tremaine sisters. It was quite the cheerful, bustling little city. However, though it was busy, no one ever seemed to be in any sort of real hurry. Traffic moved at a leisurely but steady pace. And foot traffic below was just as relaxed – at least until Figment began to descend over a rather populated section of a strip mall.

"Whoop! Woah! Watch out, folks!"

"Figment, _do_ be careful!"

People gazed up in alarm and leapt out of the way as Figment touched down on the cobblestone walkway, sending everyone scattering.

"I do so apologize, friends," said The Dreamfinder as he lifted his goggles off his face. "I didn't mean to cause alarm. Unfortunately, they don't seem to provide _Dragon Parking_ here."

The Dreamfinder certainly knew how to make an entrance, that was for sure. Mia would have been embarrassed by the ostentatious manner in which they'd arrived, but her father was such a highly respected individual that no one seemed to mind too terribly. Blair leapt nimbly down onto the cobblestone, then lifted Mia off Figment's back with surprising ease and set her on her feet. With a swirl of lavender mist, Figment returned to his default form, now hovering at Mia's shoulder.

"That was awesome!" said Mia. "I'll never drive a car again if I can ride a dragon!"

"Whoo!" said Figment, giving his head a little shake. "As fun as that is, it makes my head a bit swimmy."

"That'll pass, Figment," said Blair. "Remember, it takes _a lot_ of imagination power to make that transformation, let alone sustain it. And it's been a while."

Mia glanced up and down the strip mall, gazing in wonder at all the shops. "So, where's the best place to go for women's apparel? Oh, and makeup. I don't usually wear much, but I'd like to at least cover up my bruise," she said, pointing to the blemish on her cheek left by Anastasia's studded glove. "Maybe that should be first."

It was in this moment Blair realized that he didn't entirely have an answer for her. Women's apparel? Makeup? Did he even know where to get things like that? Where did Beverly do _her_ shopping way back when? He hadn't the foggiest.

"Uh... Well—"

"Oh! What's that smell?" Miandra asked before he could respond. "Something smells really sweet!"

Blair knew that smell and he was grateful for the distraction. "Ah! You have a nose for sweets! I suppose you take after your father there," he said with a wink. "That would be the Main Street Confectionary. We could stop there first thing, if you'd like."

Figment flew on ahead of them, his lightheadedness apparently having passed at the mention of sweets. "Oooh! That's where they make those yummy Fudgy Stars with all the different fillings inside!"

"Fudgy Stars?" Mia asked, her eyes lighting up. She grabbed Blair's hand and pulled him down the street, chasing after Figment in the direction of the confectionary.

The proprietor of the confectionary, a Mr. Schweits, originally of Rosebriar, was remarkably skinny for someone who worked with sweets day in and day out. He wore a candy-striped suit, and for all his thinness, was as jolly a man as Saint Nick himself. Upon learning that Mia was the Dreamfinder's long-lost daughter, he happily offered up free samples. Soon, Mia, her father, and Figment were strolling down the cobblestone street, each with their own little bag of goodies. Figment carried a bag of his beloved Fudgy Stars.

"Each star's a different flavor! Boy, oh boy!"

Mia was a little disappointed that the confectionary didn't carry candy apples, but she soon learned this was out of respect for Princess Snow, who was horribly afraid of apples ever since _the incident,_ as Mr. Schweits referred to it. Mia supposed she couldn't blame him. It made sense that Snow White might get a little triggered at the sight of an apple, candy or otherwise. She settled instead for a gourmet cupcake with orange and green icing, fashioned to look like a pumpkin.

"Mmm! Maybe it's all just psychological, but I swear Earth sweets don't taste nearly this good," said Mia, taking another bite of cupcake. "This is almost sinful!"

Blair was content with a small box of honey-roasted biscuits with a powdered sugar topping. "It _has_ been quite some time since I've indulged in any Earth confections. I _do_ recall Hershey's chocolate being rather good."

From the confectionary, they proceeded to browse along the strip, looking at all manner of merchandise. They were just passing a hat shop on their left when Mia suddenly had the feeling of being watched. She caught sight of something in the window; it was only a brief glimpse, but just enough to determine the figure in question was that of a man. But the details were lost on her. The transparent nature of the figure, however, suggested it was not truly a person in the window, but a reflection.

Mia swiveled to the side, but no such person was there. When she returned her gaze to the window, the reflection was gone as well. Perhaps she only imagined it. Mia hurried to catch up with her father and Figment, who had ventured on ahead, unaware that she'd trailed behind.

"Um, so there's something else I need," she said bashfully. "If I'm going to stay here, I need... Well, uh, that is... Is there, you know, a lingerie shop around here?"

Blair's face went flush and pale at the same time. "L-Lingerie? Well, I, uh—"

"Lawn jury?" asked Figment, tilting his head quizzically. "What's that? Are you having someone's front yard judged?"

"No! No, Figment," said Blair, waving his hands in a manner to attempt to quiet his naïve dragon companion. "Lingerie is, um, well..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and then, in a hushed tone, said, "She's looking for undergarments, Figment."

Figment blinked somewhat stupidly at Blair. "Don't _you_ have any you could give her?"

"No, I most certainly do not!" Blair closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. "I'm sure... I'm sure _one_ of these shops has what you need, Miandra. Let's, uh... let's go see, shall we?"

After that embarrassing exchange, one from which Mia was attempted to run were she not afraid of getting lost or intercepted by the Tremaines, they finally found a shop called _Bella Notte Lingerie_.

'Beautiful Night' Lingerie carried with it a sort of erotic undertone, one she hoped but rather doubted was lost on her father. Nevertheless, it was the first one they came upon, and Mia preferred to get it over and done with. Thus, blushing deeply, she entered the shop ahead of Blair and Figment, hoping desperately that they wouldn't cause a scene.

Blair would have preferred to wait outside for Miandra. But if she were to purchase something, she would need Cerenopian currency. He had no choice but to follow. Glancing about and hoping no one would see him entering this establishment, he opened the door and Figment flew in ahead of him.

"Hey! What's that?" the little dragon asked excitedly.

"Figment! Oh... Drat..."

Blair took a deep breath and tilted his top hat down over his face a bit more, hoping this might conceal his identity as he stepped inside. Perhaps if he located Miandra quickly enough to slip her some Cerenis he could wait outside while she shopped. Yes, that would be best.

Mia, however, had ventured on ahead through the store, making a conscious effort not to look at her father or Figment and trying to pretend like they weren't there. After all, this was horribly awkward, but it had to be done. If she was to remain in Dizgaia, she would need more than what she had on now.

She was pleased to see that in Dizgaia both undergarments and the sizing system were not too dissimilar to Earth's, so she need not ask for assistance. That would have been terribly embarrassing. Already knowing her size, Mia had no need to try anything on. She picked out what she needed. Just the basics.

Just when Mia thought she might get through the whole ordeal without incident, Figment cried out, "Oooh! They make hats for dragons!" and flew past her with a brassiere on his head, one cup over each horn, and three more in his arms.

"Oh boy, oh boy! I've always wanted a dapper little hat, but they never fit over my horns!"

"Figment!" Mia hissed, trying to get his attention and stop him, but he was so boisterous in his excitement that he didn't hear her. He zoomed across the store with his lacy treasures when, suddenly, the clerk plucked him out of the air by his wings and held him in front of Mia, frowning disapprovingly.

"Is this... _your_ dragon, Miss?" she asked.

Figment hung in the woman's outstretched hand, looking like a confused and scolded puppy. "Hey, hey! What'd I do? What'd I do?"

Mia winced. "Uh... no. No, that's not mine." Her eyes darted to Blair who was hanging back at the front of the shop with his hat low over his eyes, looking like he was ready to dart out the door. "It's _his_ dragon," said Mia, pointing at her father.

The woman's eyes widened as they fell on Blair. "Professor Mercurial?"

Blair went three shades of pink. Bringing Figment to this sort of shop was certainly a bad idea.

"Ooohhh... Figment..."

The clerk looked down at Figment and released him. "Oh! Sorry about that, Professor. But, well, you know you really shouldn't bring pets in here, especially dragons. They make a mess of things."

"He's not a pet," Blair muttered under his breath.

The woman eyed Figment sternly. "Those aren't hats. They're undergarments for women. Put them back immediately. Understand?"

Properly chastised, Figment took the brassieres back where he found them and returned to Blair, perching on his shoulder. "I only wanted a hat," he lamented.

Blair shook his head, repeating, "Oohh, Figment."

Meanwhile, the clerk began ringing up Mia's purchases. "That'll be 30 Cerenis, please."

"Uh..." Mia glanced helplessly at Blair, who stood in the corner, pink-faced and looking very much like he wanted to disappear.

"Oh, r-right," said Blair. He took Figment off his shoulder and set him by the door. "Stay here, Figment. Don't. Touch. _Anything_." The Dreamfinder joined his daughter at the check-out counter.

Mia kept her head lowered as her father took a pouch of coins out of his pocket. _Please don't look at them, please don't look at them,_ she thought, hoping he wouldn't catch a glimpse of her rather adventurous choices in underwear.

Blair took out what was owed as well as a little extra. "Keep the change. I do apologize for the trouble."

Nodding her thanks for the extra payment, the clerk bagged Mia's purchases and handed her the bag, lips pursed. Blair scooped Figment back into his arms and he and his daughter left the store. Mia and Blair avoided one another's eyes like the plague as they walked red-faced away from the storefront. For a while, they walked in awkward silence until quite suddenly Mia doubled over with laughter.

"Miandra, I'm not sure what's so funny," said Blair sternly. "That was horribly uncomfortable and frightfully embarrassing!"

"I know, right?" she agreed between fits of laughter. "I'm pretty sure I can never go into that store again. I've never been more embarrassed in my life. It was h-h-horrible!" Despite her words, she continued to laugh so hard that tears came to her eyes. "But now that it's over, all I can see is Figment f-f-flying around with a b-b-bra on his head!" She was nearly breathless with laughter as she leaned against her father for support. "Come on, Blair. You knowit's a _little_ funny."

The corner of Blair's mouth twitched slightly. His daughter's laughter was contagious. "Well... Well, I suppose it was a _little_ funny." Try as he might to hide his amusement, it wasn't long before he was chuckling along with her.

A smile came to Figment's scaly face. "You think I'm funny?" He giggled, spinning around in a little circle in midair. "Tee hee! I'm funny!"

"Yes, you're funny, Figment," said Mia. "But that _doesn't_ mean I want you doing it again, got it?"

"Indeed, Figment. Funny though it may be in hindsight, I don't believe this moment of unbridled amusement is worth the embarrassment we had to endure beforehand," said the Dreamfinder. "Perhaps you should stay outside when we go to the next store, all right?"

"Oh, all right," Figment sighed.

As they continued on their way, the outlets opened up onto one of several decorative courtyards. This one was particularly charming, complete with a garden and...

"A wishing well? A _real_ wishing well?" Mia ran across the courtyard. Above the well was a sign which read thus:

_Throw a coin into the well  
And make a wish or two  
And if you hear it splash  
Your wish will soon come true_

"The old wishing well..." Blair murmured, coming to stand beside his daughter.

Mia placed her hands on the stone wall of the well as she peered down inside. It wasn't exactly a real well. It was more of a decoration, like a fountain. It wasn't very deep. In fact, Mia could make out her reflection in the water as well as several small gold and silver coins at the bottom. She turned eagerly to The Dreamfinder.

"Could I?" she asked, holding out a hand and smiling excitedly.

Oh, sweet young Miandra. She was almost like a child in her naivety. She seemed to think that just because she was in another world, a world which had inspired the fairytales of her mundane Earth, that wishing wells would work the same way they did in those stories. Still, it was nigh impossible to deny her. And what, really, was the harm of it?

"Of course," said Blair with a warm smile as he placed a coin in her palm. "After all, this isn't our first visit to this old wishing well." He leaned against the beautiful stonework as he reminisced. "I brought you here when you were very young. You were such a clever girl. You actually tossed the coin into the well."

"Really? I would've been a year old about then, right?"

Blair nodded. "And I've no doubt that even then you wished for something wonderful."

"I'm not so sure," she said softly. "Nothing very wonderful happened after that, did it? I mean, between Maleficent and then Mom running off with me... I wouldn't have ever wished for that. I'd never want to leave this world."

Blair's wistful smile wavered. Naturally, he was happy to have Miandra here. For years he had wanted nothing more than to have his daughter back home with him. But Miandra's words were a stark reminder that she'd not returned under the circumstances he would have preferred. She was here alone, rather than with her mother at her side. And she was here because she was escaping pursuit of The Dark Ones.

"Anyway," she said with a determined huff. "I'm here now, and I'm going to make the most of it!"

The Dreamfinder's smile returned. This was a helpful reminder. No matter the circumstances surrounding her return, he wanted Miandra to be happy. And he wanted to be happy with her.

"I've already got my father and an awesome pet – er... _guardian_ dragon," she said, glancing apologetically at Figment. "That only leaves one thing."

Taking a deep breath, Mia leaned over the well and began to sing a familiar tune. "I'm wishing," and in a softer voice meant to signify an echo, "I'm wishing... For the one I love... To find me... To find me... Today... Today..."

Blair softly mouthed the lyrics along with his daughter. It was a song he hadn't heard in a long time, and yet he remembered it clear as day. On the other side, in the long-ago year of 1937, Blarion Mercurial, dressed in the finest Earth threads Mr. Disney could procure for him, joined Walt and Beverly, the vibrant young woman who'd captured his eye and had eventually become his wife, to the premier of the first feature-length animated film, _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves._ It had been groundbreaking and Blair thought, at the time, the first step in the grand process of uniting the two worlds into a utopia.

The memory was bittersweet. Blair pushed it from his mind, not wishing to dwell on thoughts of Beverly and his dearly departed friend. Perhaps he should be more concerned about what his daughter had just wished for. He'd missed out on so much of her life. She was only a baby the last time he'd seen her. Now, she was a grown woman, wishing for romance.

This stirred in Blair conflicting feelings. As a father, he wanted his daughter to be happy and to find love, but at the same time, he dreaded the journey. He wondered if perhaps Miandra was setting herself up with impossible expectations when it came to romance. At the young age of 19, Miandra was very susceptible to obsessing over imagined romantic scenarios with an 'idealized' love interest. Sometimes that could do more harm than good.

Balancing the coin on her thumb knuckle and index finger, Mia flipped it into the air. She watched it turning over as it descended, the sun glinting off the silver as she followed its trajectory into the water. She heard the soft splash and watched the water ripple, giggling softly to herself. As the ripples cleared and the water settled, Mia saw a face staring back at her. The face was that of a man – handsome and dapper – with a positively knee-weakening smile.

Mia smiled back at him, leaning closer to the water before she realized the foolishness of what she was doing. It was a reflection. Therefore, much like in the film, _Snow White,_ the handsome man must be standing right beside her. Mia shot up from the well and glanced to her left and to her right, but there was no one around except for the Dreamfinder and Figment. She looked back into the water, but the man was gone. She hadn't imagined it, though. This time Mia was certain she'd seen someone. She straightened up and looked at her father.

"Is this a _real_ wishing well? Like, for real-for real? You don't suppose it can tell the future, do you?"

"Uh, well..." Blair honestly doubted it, but he so hated to discourage her. "If you believe in your wish with all your might, perhaps the wishing well will see fit to make it come true." He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly. "I believe that you have the will and the heart to see that wish come true, Miandra."

"I saw something in the water," she told him excitedly. "A reflection. I think it _does_ tell the future. I'm going to meet a handsome stranger today. I just know it!"

Before Blair could reply, Mia took his hands in hers and began to dance with him right there in the courtyard in front of the wishing well. "I know you... I walked with you once upon a dream..." She released one of his hands and did a little twirl, only to spin back to him, making him blush as her swaying hair evoked thoughts of Beverly. "I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam..."

Mia released him and took Figment by his small, scaly claws, and twirled him around in the air as she continued to sing Aurora's song from _Sleeping Beauty_. Figment giggled delightedly. If he but had that red cap, he could easily be like the owl that stood in for Prince Phillip.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem... But if I know you, I know what you'll do, you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream..."

So, it seemed Miandra was convinced she was destined to meet a handsome stranger. She wanted to have her fairy tale romance. Despite the fact that she was so grown up, she was still, in many ways, very much like a young girl. It brought a smile to Blair's face, but one which quickly fell as he wondered... Why _did_ Miandra think she was going to meet a handsome stranger? Something about a reflection in the water?

Blair peeked into the well and saw nothing but his own reflection. He frowned, a touch concerned. Miandra seemed to take it in stride. Being in the magical world that had inspired her favorite fairy tales appeared to have convinced her that anything was possible and not to question such anomalies. What she didn't understand was that there were still rules and limits to what was possible on Dizgaia. Seeing apparitions in a wishing well was by no accounts normal.

It could simply be a product of her imagination, for indeed she had a strong one. And there was certainly the chance that her innate and previously dormant dreamfinding abilities might spontaneously emerge here in Dizgaia, accounting for such a manifestation. Blair certainly hoped that was all it was. There were other less whimsical, more bothersome explanations, but there was no sense in upsetting Miandra. He did not wish to worry her needlessly.

"Come on!" Mia called as she skipped down the cobblestone in the direction of the shops. "I've gotta find something pretty to wear if I'm to meet my handsome stranger!"

"Wait up, dear! We don't want you getting lost now!" With one last hasty glance at the wishing well, Blair followed his daughter down the walkway, hoping she hadn't forgotten the real reason they were procuring nice new clothes for her.

Mia's surroundings were slowly getting into her head. Although she knew there were dangers, she couldn't help focusing on the more whimsical nature of Dizgaia. After all, what girl _wouldn't_ love to live in a fairy tale world, even if it was not as perfect as the stories and mythos made it out to be?

When they came across a street vendor who offered to braid her hair for 10 cerenis, Mia didn't have to beg much before her father helplessly relented. When the woman was done, Mia's hair was pulled back in a thick braid with pretty white flowers interwoven through the latticework.

Next, Blair directed her to a place called Lydia's Boutique – "I believe this is where your mother used to shop," he said – and they both left Figment with strict instructions to wait for them outside. The little dragon begrudgingly obeyed, but he gladly occupied himself with his bag of Fudgy Stars.

Here, Mia was able to procure some basic cosmetics to cover the bruise on her cheek, which she applied immediately. After all, she couldn't have the handsome stranger seeing such a blemish on her face. This accomplished, she began strolling up and down the aisles of clothes, oohing and awing at the beautiful fashions. Some were quite similar to what she might find in an Earth department store, while others were more medieval or steampunk in style. Mia grabbed three outfits, one of which was a dress for her meeting with the princesses, and she scurried off to the dressing room while Blair waited patiently outside for her to model for him.

Inside the dressing room, Mia stripped down to her skivvies and tried on the dress. It was a dainty dress of blue satin, just a shade or two lighter than her father's outfit. She appraised her reflection in the mirror, giving a little twirl to see how the dress swished around her legs. She placed her hands on her hips as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked her reflection. "Does this suffice for meeting with royalty and handsome strangers?"

"I daresay it does," a disembodied voice replied.

Mia watched in horrified fascination as a man appeared in the mirror, blocking out her reflection. It was almost as though someone had suddenly stepped in front of her, but that was purely impossible. No, this was not a reflection. This man was _in_ the mirror!

Mia let out a strangled cry and staggered backwards, tripping and landing spread-eagled on the floor. She could feel the dressing room bench pressing into her shoulder blades as she gazed up at the dapper gentleman in the mirror. He was tall and handsome with sandy blonde hair that curtained either side of his face from beneath a green top hat. He wore a matching overcoat and a suit of burnt orange plaid. The most unsettling thing about him – aside from the fact that he was in the mirror – were his eyes, which were like pools of mercury.

He tilted his head as his eyes flicked downwards, and Mia had just enough presence of mind to quickly close her legs. The man's silver gaze returned to Mia's face. Grinning, he winked at her. The scream which had gotten caught in her throat finally made it past her lips. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and then a banging on the door.

"Miandra! Miandra, are you all right?"

The man in the mirror scowled at the sound of Blair's voice and quickly sidestepped out of sight. Mia scrambled to her feet and threw open the door, flying into her father's arms.

"There's a m-man in the women's d-dressing room," she gasped, so upset she could barely form a complete sentence. "S-Staring at me!"

"What?!"

Blair charged into the changing stall. Mia timidly followed. No one was there.

"Miandra, are you quite certain you saw someone?" He didn't suspect his daughter of lying, but there was no one to be found, and it was nearly impossible for two people to fit in the stall, let alone a girl and a full-grown man.

"Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but I swear it's true!" said Mia. "He was... he was in the mirror."

Blair gave her a look she didn't fully understand, but she thought perhaps he didn't believe her. 

"I know it sounds insane, but I'm not crazy. At least I don't think I am. He was really there... IN the mirror!"

"It's not as crazy as you might think," said Blair, his jaw set and his mouth a firm line. He placed his hands upon Mia's shoulders. "It's all right, Miandra. I need to have a word with the manager. Stay away from the dressing rooms, all right?" With that, he went off to find the person in charge.

Mia stood dumbfounded and rooted to the spot. She was relieved her father believed her, but it seemed something very peculiar was going on, something Blair wasn't fully explaining to her. Mia huffed. Well, whatever it was, Blair seemed to have it under control, so she might as well browse around the shop.

_But who_ was _that man?_ she wondered as she strolled up and down the aisles of clothes, checking out anything that caught her eye. _What was he doing in the women's dressing room, and inside the mirror, at that?_

Handsome stranger or not, the man was super creepy. However, her thoughts soon trailed off as she heard some familiar voices coming from a few aisles over.

"Oh, I don't want that! Look at it! It's trash! I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that!"

"We don't have time to be picky, Anastasia. Time is of the essence. We're just gathering the basic necessities."

Mia froze. She recognized that name _and_ those voices. It was the Tremaines! Quickly, she ducked below the line of clothing racks, trying to keep out of sight as she eavesdropped on their conversation.

"But I have so many lovely dresses at home! If only we could just go back briefly so I can grab—"

"What don't you understand, Ana? We _can't_ go back home! We're on the lam!"

So that's what was going on. The Tremaines were gathering supplies before making a quick get-away from Cerenopia. They must have known that Mia and her father would seek out Cinderella and have them arrested. Mia needed to tell Blair before they could escape, but she certainly didn't want to confront them by herself.

"Hush, Drizella. Hurry now, ladies."

Remaining ducked below the line of clothing racks, Mia tried to navigate through the aisles to get to her father without being spotted.

"I just don't see why we have to go," whined Anastasia. "All because of some girl? What does _she_ have anything to do with this? Why do we have to—"

Mia turned a corner into another aisle, only to run right into the Tremaines.

_Shit!_

"YOU!" shouted Drizella, unsheathing her kendo stick again, but her mother pushed her aside and confronted Mia herself.

"Well, well... What have we here?" With a flourish of her fancy cane, Lady Tremaine pinned Mia against the wall beside a full-length mirror. She held Mia in place with the end of the cane, which she pressed painfully hard against Mia's chest. Mia gasped and grabbed the cane, trying to push it off of her, but Lady Tremaine was deceptively strong for a woman her age.

"S-Stop. You're h-hurting me," Mia gasped.

"Oh, I'll do more than that when I get through with you," she growled.

"Mother," said Anastasia, glaring furiously at Mia. "Who _is_ this girl anyway? Is _she_ the reason we have to leave?"

Lady Tremaine's lips curled into a wicked smile. "This, ladies, is Miandra Mercurial, the Dreamfinder's daughter... and she'll be coming with us."

Anastasia and Drizella exchanged confused glances. " _What???"_

Blair, meanwhile, was conversing with the boutique's proprietor. "I'm telling you, Lydia, someone was spying on my daughter in the dressing room mirror! Have you had your mirror security kept up to date?"

Lydia, an attractive older woman with graying red hair and half-moon glasses wrung her hands nervously. "We remodeled the dressing rooms about a month back. Complete with new mirrors. We've just been so busy that we haven't had the time to--"

Blair's attention was drawn away by the sound of a pained cry and raised voices. He turned and caught sight of Miandra – not where he left her, but in the clutches of none other than Lady Tremaine!

He left Lydia in mid-sentence and rushed across the store to where Lady Tremaine had Miandra pinned against a mirror with her cane, glaring viciously at her.

"Lady Tremaine, step away from my daughter at once!"

The woman shot him a venomous glare. "Hmm... Not so alone after all, it seems," she murmured. She lowered her cane from Mia's chest, but did not otherwise budge. Anastasia and Drizella kept silent in front of the Dreamfinder, further evidence as to just how well-respected he was.

"I assure you, Professor Mercurial, this is all a simple misunderstanding. You see, yesterday your daughter accosted Anastasia and Drizella, and just now I was taking it upon myself to correct her behavior."

The normally warm and benevolent eyes of Blair Mercurial were narrowed in fury. Mia thought she could almost see a fire burning behind those usually twinkling eyes.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked, crossing his arms. "In that case, would you care to explain how it is that Miandra came home last night with a bruise on her face and welts on her back while it seems your daughters haven't a single scratch on them?"

Lady Tremaine opened her mouth to reply, but Blair quickly cut her off.

"You can drop the innocent act, Lady Tremaine. I know what you've been up to – going to Earth at the behest of the Dark Ones and posing as Miandra's professor so you could discourage her creativity. No one stifles the spark of a Mercurial, Lady Tremaine. I'm afraid your actions – and that of your daughters – cannot go unpunished."

With a fizzle and a pop, three pairs of handcuffs appeared out of thin air, called forth by the Dreamfinder's imagination.

"I'm placing you three under arrest!"

Mia gaped at her father in astonishment. "Woah. You mean, you can actually do that?" She hadn't expected him to flat-out accuse Lady Tremaine of working for the Dark Ones, at least not without backup. And now he was making a citizen's arrest!

Blair gave Mia a private grin, always happy for the chance to impress his daughter. He may have no _official_ legal authority, but after all he'd done for Dizgaia, no one would dare question him if he made a citizen's arrest.

The Tremaine sisters seemed to be doing their best impressions of a goldfish as they gaped at the Dreamfinder.

"Wh-What?"

"But you can't!"

"We're innocent!"

"It was all Mother's doing! How were we supposed to know what she was up to?"

"SILENCE!" Lady Tremaine roared at her daughters, though her fiery eyes remained on Blair. "You heard him, ladies. Best we go quietly."

Now it was Mia's turn to gape like a fish out of water. She was surprised by how well Lady Tremaine was taking this. Mia hadn't expected the woman to relent so easily and with such poise. However, there was something about her face, an upward twitch of the lips, that led Mia to suspect Lady Tremaine was up to something. It was as though she knew something they didn't. The woman's eyes flicked towards Mia, but she wasn't really looking at Mia. Instead, she seemed to be looking at something just behind her.

Blair didn't seem to notice Lady Tremaine's peculiar behavior. Brandishing the handcuffs, he took a step towards her. "A wise course of action, madam," he said. "No need to make a public spectacle."

"Tut tut, Dreamfinder!"

Mia nearly jumped out of her skin as the voice spoke up from behind her. She spun around, watching in horror as the man she'd seen in the dressing room mirror emerged from the one behind her.

"Public spectacles are oftentimes the most wondrous of spectacles!"

"Y-You're the man in the mirror!" Mia exclaimed. She furrowed her brow, trying to get a sense for who or what this person might be. Something about his outfit rang familiar, but she still couldn't quite place him.

"I should say _not_ , young lady," the dapperly dressed man said in something of an offended tone. "To be the man _in_ the mirror, I'd have to be _inside_ the mirror. As you can clearly see..." He tilted his head, grinning widely at her. "I am actually quite _out_ of it."

Mia could do naught but stare entrancedly at this newfound development. Although she knew that many possibilities abounded in Dizgaia, a world from which the tales of such as Hans Christian Andersen and Walt Disney were born, her mind still attempted to make sense of the strange occurrences presented to her.

"Miandra!" her father bellowed. "Get away from that Mad Hatter!"

This panicked command from her father brought her to the realization that this whimsical gentleman was the Mad Hatter, and apparently that was _not_ a good thing. Confused, Mia glanced between the Hatter and her father, not entirely comprehending the situation. However, when the Hatter's mercury eyes widened in a glare of crazed fury, Mia gulped nervously and stepped away from him.

"Mad!? How _dare_ you call me mad!? I... HATE... BEING CALLED... MAD!!!" The Hatter's head was tilted, his eye twitching. "IT... MAKES... ME..."

Such rage emanated from the Hatter that, for a moment, Mia feared he might explode like a volcano. But a second later, he regained composure and gazed mildly down at her.

"Well, I just don't like it is all," he said with a smile.

_He didn't want to say it makes him mad, '_ thought Mia, who couldn't stop the nervous laugh which slipped, unbidden, from her lips.

Blair was far less amused, however. His eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists, which were suddenly aglow with swirling rainbow light. Only this time there was something threatening about that light. Perhaps it was the crackle of red sparks scattered throughout.

"What business do you have here, Hatter?" he growled.

With a handsome smile, the Hatter placed his hand on his chest and dipped into a short bow. "Why, the Mistress of Darkness' business of course. And her business is my pleasure, her pleasure is my business, and _my_ pleasure is _none_ of your business!"

This admission was enough to move Mia into action, and she quickly backed away. Suddenly, the Hatter wasn't so funny anymore.

"I'm afraid the Tremaines are quite late for their afternoon tea date with the mistress," said the Hatter. "So, I'll be escorting them to her."

Blair grit his teeth, shaking his head. " _I'm_ afraid, Hatter, that I can't allow that! By the authority of the Order of Yen Sid, Lady Tremaine and her daughters are under arrest!"

Mia's gaze flicked between the Tremaines, who seemed surprisingly calm, considering, and the wickedly grinning Hatter. "Blair..." she murmured, as she continued to back away. "M-Maybe we should just let them leave..."

"Let us leave?"

Ambushed again, Mia spun around towards the source of the new voice, and what she saw caused her to let out a bloodcurdling scream. An anthropomorphic rabbit-man with wide, manic eyes, shabby red-brown fur, and a shock of black hair atop his head had appeared behind her, cackling like a loon.

"Let us leave?" he repeated. "Why... we're already GONE!"

If his words and wild expression weren't enough to give away his mental state, the straightjacket he wore certainly did the trick. With the canvass sleeves crisscrossed over his chest, he looked very much like a demonic fur monster escaped from the asylum.

"March Hare!" Blair exclaimed in horror.

Laughing maniacally, the March Hare's eyes flicked to the Mad Hatter. "Lookee, lookee, Hatter! Come for the tea... stay for the cake!"

The March Hare opened his arms wide, revealing that they were not bound to him, as it had initially seemed. They were, however, completely encased in the long sleeves, which were apparently of supernatural origin as they suddenly grew longer and shot out at Mia, wrapping themselves around her.

" _This_ one, to be precise! You look like you'd go well with a spot of tea, sweetcakes!"

From shoulders to midsection, Mia was bound by the canvass sleeves, her arms pinned helplessly at her sides. For a moment, she couldn't speak. Her lips moved soundlessly as she stared in silent horror at the abomination that had captured her. Like a fisherman reeling in his catch, the sleeves slowly began to retract, dragging Mia ever closer to the deranged hare. Finally, Mia found her voice to scream as she struggled uselessly at the impossibly strong pull of the canvass sleeves.

"Miandra! NO!" shouted Blair.

"Gotta wrap up the present for Mistress Maleficent! It's her Unbirthday today, after all!"

Blair stepped towards Mia and the Hare, but hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the Hatter who was ushering the Tremaines towards him. The mirror was rippling like rings of unsteady water. Blair clenched his fists.

"Curiouser and curiouser, Dreamfinder," said the Hatter with a wicked grin. "Whatever shall you do? Save your daughter from ol' Marchy, or stop me from taking the Tremaines to safety?"

The Dreamfinder grit his teeth as he glared into the mercury pools of the Hatter's eyes. The choice was simple, of course. Blair spun towards the March Hare to rescue his daughter. Imaginergy flowed through the Dreamfinder's hands as a large pair of scissors materialized in the air in front of him.

"How about a Hare cut?"

The March Hare, who'd been reeling Mia in towards him like a fish on a line, hesitated and gazed at the Dreamfinder with an amused smile which seemed, for the moment, relatively sane.

"Hey, that's a funny line! WHAGH!"

With a flick of his wrist, Blair sent the large pair of scissors flying towards the March Hare. Then, holding his fingers like a pair of scissors themselves, Blair mimicked a cutting motion and the hovering scissors did the same, cutting through the sleeves of the straightjacket and freeing Mia from the Hare's clutches. The sleeves fell to the floor, writhing like helpless snakes. Mia ran to Blair, clinging fearfully to him. During this encounter, customers had fled from the store, screaming – some dropping their purchases in their panic and others forgetting to pay entirely and running out the door with an armful of clothes.

Lydia had pressed the emergency response button beneath the cash-out counter, but it was too late. With one last malign smile at Blair and Mia, Lady Tremaine followed her daughters through the mirror. Meanwhile, the Hare's sleeves slithered up his legs and torso like a pair of snakes, reattaching themselves and binding the Hare's arms across his body. The mangy rabbit-man grinned at Mia and Blair with a deranged look in his eyes.

"Hare today... gone tomorrow!" he proclaimed as he hopped through the mirror after the Tremaines, cackling like a loon.

Blair held a frightened Mia to his side as now only the Hatter remained, staring down the Dreamfinder and his frightened daughter who'd just narrowly escaped capture. The Hatter offered up a devilishly handsome and somewhat unhinged smile.

"It's been an unmitigated pleasure stalking you both." His gaze moved to Mia, who, despite her fright, couldn't seem to take her eyes away from him. "Wishes really _do_ come true," he told her.

Tears welled in Mia's eyes as she trembled beside the Dreamfinder. The Hatter doffed his hat and bent into a sweeping bow. Upon his head, hidden until now by the Hatter's cap, sat a mouse-like creature the size of a puppy. But there was nothing cute about this impossibly large mouse. Half his ear appeared to be chewed off, and he had a row of razor-sharp teeth. The eyes which peered out at them were as black as inescapable voids. Mia cried out in a mixture of horror and disgust, trembling against her father. The Dormouse gave them a drunken sort of smile.

"TwiNkLe... tWinKle... fiNdERs oF dreAMs... sOmedAY WE'd lOVe To heAr yOUr SCReaMS..."

Mia buried her face in Blair's shoulder, choking down a sob. Blair felt his blood run cold at the loathsome words of the Dormouse. The Hatter placed his hat back on his head, concealing the creature once more as he rose from his bow. Mia risked a glance just in time to see The Hatter leap backwards through the mirror, which shattered immediately after his reentry, sending shards of glass whizzing past them. Mia screamed and buried her face against her father once more as the sound of sirens echoed outside.

Figment flew into the store in a panic. "Dreamfinder! Miandra! What's happening? All these people came out running and screaming and the Royal Police are coming! What's going on?"

Neither Mia nor Blair had any words for him. For the moment, it seemed Mia had lost her ability to speak, while Blair was busy comforting her. He held Mia against him as he ran his hand comfortingly through her hair.

"It's all right, Miandra. They're gone, dear. It's all over now. I'm just glad you're safe," he said, pressing his lips to her hair.

Moments later, several people filed into the store – both men and women garbed in cream colored uniform coats with gold trim, dark blue slacks, and high black boots. Each was armed with a sword as well as a six-bullet revolver. These people, Mia surmised, must be the Royal Police Figment had referenced.

One of the men drew his sword as his eyes swept the place with a scrutinizing gaze. "All right. What's the trouble here?"

Lydia ventured out from her hiding place behind the check-out counter all a panic. "Th-Th Hatter! And the M-March Hare! They c-came in through the m-mirror," she stammered, pointing a trembling finger in the direction of the shattered mirror. Lydia, thought Mia, seemed more frightened than her, despite the fact that _she_ hadn't been the one to get wrapped up in the Hare's straightjacket sleeves and threatened by The Hatter and the Dormouse.

Every member of the Royal Police froze, each one going wide-eyed. "Th-The Hatter and the March Hare? _Here???"_

Blair's eyes narrowed as he addressed the officer. "Yes, they were here. I'm afraid you just missed them. They fled, taking Lady Tremaine and her daughters with them."

"Professor Mercurial! You mean to say the Tremaines were kidnapped by The Hatter?"

"Hardly!" he scoffed. "They were _escorted_ away, as Lady Tremaine is in league with The Dark Ones."

The officers exchanged nervous glances. This seemed to be a little out of their jurisdiction. "Uh... Don't go anywhere. We... We should take statements."

"Don't bother, officer," came a commanding voice from the doorway of the boutique. "This is out of your hands now."

"On who's authority?"

The store began to fill up with more people. These ones were dressed in red sorcerer's robes, which they wore over their business professional attire. The person in charge was tall, imposing man with dark brown skin, short, dark hair, a thin mustache, and a stern countenance.

"Mine," he said, flourishing a badge. "Special Agent Mortimer Royo of the Allied Magical Protection Agency. This vicinity is now a Magical At-Risk Zone, which falls under the AMPA's jurisdiction. You and your team's assistance is no longer required."

Mia's fear had taken a backseat to curiosity as the team of people calling themselves the Allied Magical Protection Agency arrived on the scene. She stepped away from her father, gazing around them as though taking in the chaotic mess for the first time.

"Wh-What just happened?" she asked, still processing. "The Mad Hatter and March Hare are bad guys? Was this some sort of terrorist attack? What about the mirror? Are mirrors evil? They won't come back, will they?" Her eyes darted around the shop, almost expecting them to pop out of any one of the several remaining mirrors throughout the store. She huddled closer to her father. "M-Maybe we should break them."

"Hold on now, Miandra," said Blair, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "That won't be necessary, especially not now."

Agent Royo approached them. "Professor Mercurial, it's good to finally meet you, sir. It's a shame it couldn't be under better circumstances."

Blair shook his hand. "Yes, I've usually met with Commissioner Xatencio in the past over matters such as these."

"Commissioner Xatencio is getting on in years and doesn't do much field work anymore. All matters are now under _my_ authority. Speaking of which, I'd like to get statements from you, your dragon, and the young woman."

"My daughter, you mean."

"Yes. Your..." Royo hesitated, arching an eyebrow. "I see. Welcome back, Miss Mercurial."

Mia flushed embarrassedly. Was there anyone in Cerenopia who _didn't_ know the story of she and her mother's departure?

"It seems I might have some _further_ questions in regards to how it is that you've returned to Dizgaia. Travel between the two worlds _also_ falls under the AMPA's scope as there could be concern of magical threat."

Mia swallowed nervously. "Am I in trouble? I didn't mean to cause problems, but there were mitigating circumstances for me coming here. An emergency of sorts."

"An emergency?"

Mia glanced worriedly at Blair. "They're not gonna deport me or something, are they?"

"You can't make Miandra go back!" Figment cried. "If Gaston and those Goons come back for her, there won't be anyone to protect her on the other side!"

Royo's eyes went wide. "Indeed? It sounds to me, Miss Mercurial, that your return is attracting all sorts of unwanted attention. This sounds like a pretty deep investigation."

"Agent Royo," said Blair with polite impatience, "While I respect what you do and can appreciate your concern for the circumstances surrounding my daughter, I'd prefer if you focused, for the time being, on today's mishap. Mainly, the Mad Hatter and the March Hare coming here through a mirror to help the Tremaines escape arrest."

"That is my foremost concern at the moment, yes. Agent Byrd, what have we found?"

One of the AMPA agents, a woman with strawberry blonde hair who wasn't too much older than Miandra herself, was handling some of the shards of glass from the broken mirror.

"It looks like none of the mirrors in this shop have up-to-date protection enhancements placed on them, making them susceptible to Aperturism. Especially this one. This particular mirror doesn't seem to have _any_ protection enhancements to speak of."

Mia tilted her head inquisitively. "Apertursim?"

"Since the _Alice Incident,_ all mirrors around Dizgaia are supposed to have protective enchantments placed on them at the time of manufacture to keep them from being used as apertures by the wicked," Royo explained. "Particularly those from Wonderland."

"The Alice Incident?" said Mia. "But I thought Alice followed the white rabbit down the rabbit hole—"

Lydia gasped as though Mia had just said a bad word.

"What do mirrors have to do with..." Mia trailed off, recalling more of Lewis Carrol's work regarding Alice's adventures. "Wait. There was a sequel to _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_." She gazed up at her father in understanding. " _Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There_." Now it was starting to make sense.

Agent Royo nodded. "Over time, the mirrors need their enchantments updated to ensure that they are still protected. Wonderlanders will occasionally peer through reflective surfaces from time to time, but mirrors are the only ones they can use as apertures. It seems this particular mirror was the perfect weak spot for the Hatter and the Hare." Royo shook his head and sighed. "Looks like we're going to be writing up quite a few citations for this one."

Mia nodded, slowly piecing it together. "So, it's sort of like virus protection for computers and the Mad Hatter is kind of like a Mad _Hacker._ " Nervous giggles bubbled up her throat, but Mia quickly swallowed them with a shiver. "At least a Jabberwock didn't come out of it," she said, trying to ease the tension with a bit of levity.

However, this was apparently a poor choice of words as it caused Lydia to scream and swoon. An AMPA officer caught her just as she fainted. Figment let out a frightened squeak and zipped up under Blair's coat to hide.

"Figment! Come now..." said Blair.

"Is that a real thing?" Mia asked, horrified.

Figment's head poked out from between the buttons of Blair's vest and nodded before ducking back inside.

Mia felt the blood drain from her face. Now _she_ felt like fainting. "Sorry," she murmured.

"You have much to learn about the ways of this world, Miss Mercurial," said Royo.

"Is there anything you can do about this matter, Agent Royo?" asked Blair.

Royo rubbed a hand across his forehead as though staving off a migraine. "Well, it's a tough situation. My team can update the enchantments on these mirrors and confiscate the remains of the apertured one. Unfortunately for Miss Lydia and whoever sold her these mirrors, there's going to be citations and fines. As for the Hatter and the March Hare, I'm afraid there isn't much more we can do. We'll certainly report it. But for now, they're beyond our reach."

"I see," said Blair, looking troubled. "Well, my daughter and I are due for an audience with Princess Cindy and Princess Snow. I intend to fill them in on everything."

"Yes, that would be best," agreed Royo. "However, before you go, I'm afraid I must insist on inquiring of you, Miss Mercurial, the circumstances of your return to Dizgaia." He reached into his robe, which he wore over a suit and tie, and pulled out a small notepad. "Your dragon mentioned Gaston and The Goons. What exactly happened with them and _how_ did you end up here?"

Reluctantly, and hoping she wasn't about to be issued a citation herself, Mia explained to Agent Royo the circumstances behind her arrival in Dizgaia, starting with her trip to Disney World and the arrival of Gaston, who attempted to kidnap her and all that followed.

"And that's when Flynn activated the Rainbow Corridor and brought me here to meet my father."

"And then the Tremaines attacked her!" said Figment, picking up where she left off. "They weren't happy because Miandra found out that Lady Tremaine was pretending to be her college professor on Earth. They were trying to snuff out her spark! And now the Dark Ones are after Miandra and it's my job to protect her!" He cast an apologetic glance at Mia. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me, Miandra."

The little dragon looked so upset with himself that Mia couldn't help but take him into her arms and hug him. "It's okay," she assured him. "I'm all right. It's all over now."

Blair didn't like that his daughter was being made to recount all this. It had been difficult for her from the very start. More and more, it was becoming obvious that her presence in Dizgaia was dangerous for her. However, returning her to Earth was a fool's errand. Nothing could protect her there. It seemed Miandra's life was destined to be fraught with danger. And yet, Blair couldn't help smiling at Figment's determination to protect Mia. After all these years, the little dragon remembered his charge and took it very seriously.

"And this Kevin Flynn," said Royo, jotting down notes. "Who is he?"

This time, Blair interjected. "Flynn is one of my brightest Imagineers at the Imagination Institute. And I'm very grateful to him for seeing my Miandra safely out of that situation. I do hope he's not to be punished for his selfless heroics?"

Mia knew her father was just trying to ensure that Agent Royo wasn't too hard on Flynn, but it almost felt like he was reminding her, too, of all Flynn had done for her. She felt a twinge of guilt for her earlier treatment of him, but she wasn't ready to forgive him.

"He may have to be issued a citation," said Royo, "But we certainly don't arrest people for rescuing damsels in distress." His eyes flicked to Mia. "And this Flynn... he can corroborate your story, Miss Mercurial?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he was at Disney World when he and Tron rescued me. Then he took me through the Rainbow Corridor. Look, Mr. Royo, am I in trouble or not? I mean, no offense, but shouldn't you be trying to arrest Gaston or something?"

"Gaston is not commonly known for committing any sort of magical crime. Any magic he made use of was likely not his own. Besides that, he falls under Paridon's jurisdiction, and if _they_ haven't managed to arrest him yet..." He trailed off and shook his head. "His current whereabouts are unknown. Unless he turns up here in Cerenopia, he's also beyond our reach."

Meanwhile, Lydia had come to. She was sitting slumped in a chair with her hand over her heart, looking on rather melodramatically as one of the store clerks waved a fan at her.

"As for now," said Agent Royo, looking between Blair, Mia, and Figment, "I suppose I've gotten all we need from you. You're free to go. However, I do intend to pay Mr. Flynn a visit, and I'll certainly be keeping in touch with you, Miss Mercurial. I intend to see just how deep this rabbit hole goes."

At his words, Lydia let out a distressed moan and fainted again. Agent Royo glanced over his shoulder at her and arched an eyebrow.

"Whoops."

Mia was glad when they were free to go. Agent Royo was pretty intense. After reviving Lydia for a second time, Mia and her father paid for their purchases. Lydia allowed Mia to have the blue dress for free and threw in a pair of matching shoes as an apology for the undue stress they'd suffered as a result of the lack of protective enchantments on her mirrors. Blair led Mia outside with Figment fluttering behind them.

Blair was eager to put as much distance between them and the boutique as possible. To think... The Mad Hatter and The March Hare had infiltrated Cerenopia! They'd found a way past the powerful enchantments which the Order of Yen Sid had placed over the kingdom as protection against The Dark Ones. Luckily, the AMPA were on the job to settle that, but Blair wasn't so sure that was enough.

They walked in silence down the cobblestone street that went past the outlets, carefully avoiding the wishing well. Mia jumped at her reflection in one of the shop windows. By the time they'd come to the end of the strip mall, the morning's frightening ordeal had finally caught up to her, and she promptly dispelled her breakfast into some hydrangea bushes.

"Miandra! Dearheart, are you all right?"

Once she'd emptied the contents of her stomach, Mia rose up from the bushes and took a seat on a nearby bench. She placed her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. She was trembling.

"Mia?" asked Figment. "What is it? Are you sick?"

"N-No. Not exactly. I just need a minute."

Blair frowned as he crouched down in front of her. The stress of what Miandra had been through was weighing heavily on her. Two days back on her native world, and already she'd been assaulted by the Tremaine sisters and then barely managed to escape capture by two of the most terrifying figures to exist in Dizgaia. It wasn't any wonder she'd thrown-up.

Mia lowered her hands and gazed at her father. Her face was pale and there were tears in her eyes that she was refusing to let fall. "Did I mess up my makeup?" she asked. "Is my hair okay?"

She tilted her head back, hoping maybe she could somehow suck her tears back into her eyeballs to they wouldn't spill down her face and streak her cheeks. She was supposed to meet with royalty today, and it would be absolutely terrible if she looked a wreck when doing it. She very much wanted to make a good impression.

Blair placed his hands on her shoulders. "Miandra... Despite everything you've been through today, you're still the most beautiful young woman in all the world."

"You're just saying that because you're my father," she sniffled.

"Even if you were anything less than radiant, no one could properly blame you after what you encountered today." His hands moved to her cheeks as he gazed remorsefully at her. "Oh, my darling daughter... It seems you can't get a moment's peace since coming home. I feel like the longer you stay, the more you're going to regret being here at this rate."

Mia took a gentle hold of his wrists and gazed into his kind, twinkling eyes. "Never," she said. "I'll never regret coming here and meeting you as long as I live. As for here..." She glanced around with a small smile before returning her gaze to her father. "I haven't seen enough of 'here' to make such a decision. So, I guess you're just going to have to show me _so_ much more of it – all of the good things – to keep me from ever wanting to leave." Her lips quirked mischievously. "But I'm already pretty sure I'll never want to."

Her words brought a smile to his face, but it was a somewhat nervous smile. In spite of Miandra's reassurances, Blair worried for his daughter's safety. If Miandra was to see so much more of this whole new world, the Dreamfinder was going to have to keep a close eye on her to ensure that if any of the Dark Ones crossed their path, he could stop them from making a move.

"Besides, it's not like I had anything going for me back home," said Mia. "Lady Tremaine completely sabotaged college _and_ any future career aspirations for me. But here... I feel like I could do anything. I just need to get used to the idea of Disney villains popping out at me when I least expect it."

"Yes, well, to be fair, that isn't a normal occurrence, dear. I'm so sorry you had to witness that."

"But the Mad Hatter and March Hare... I would've never guessed. I mean, I always personally found those characters, and the tales of Lewis Carrol in general, to be rather creepy. I just never imagined them being evil or villainous. And despite my personal feelings, on Earth it's widely accepted as a silly, nonsensical tale with whimsical characters. Harmless."

"Wonderland is a nasty piece of business," said the Dreamfinder, speaking quietly so as not to draw attention. "Don't let the name fool you. The only 'wonder' about Wonderland is how anyone leaves that place alive and with their sanity intact."

He rose to his feet, pulling Mia up with him. "I'll gladly tell you more about that, but we really must be heading for the castle. With the morning's events, I don't think we can afford to wait a second longer."


	15. A Royal Engagement

The wind blew through Mia's hair as they rode Figment through the sky, high above the cobblestone roads and multi-generational buildings of Main Street. After her encounter with The Mad Hatter and The March Hare, riding a giant dragon through the sky was no longer so frightening. Now, it was invigorating, and if anything, Mia felt safer way up here where the bad guys couldn't reach her.

Soon, the cityscape gave way to meadows and lush forests. Mia breathed deeply, leaning back against her father's broad chest. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to concentrate on the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, and the sound of Figment's mighty wings flapping loud and rhythmically. She'd become so relaxed that, for a moment, she'd very nearly dozed off until her father's voice alerted her that they were nearing their destination.

"There, Miandra. There it is."

He pointed and Mia followed his finger to a flat-topped mountain which rose up out of the forest. There, on its summit stood Cinderella's castle – the _real_ Cinderella's castle. From here, it looked like a giant alabaster model with lovely blue trim, not so unlike the one in Disney World; though that one was designed as an optical illusion to simply _look_ larger than it was. This castle? It was genuinely immense! Not only that, it was breathtakingly beautiful.

Mia had seen the castle through the atrium windows of the Imagination Institute, but then it had been so far away. Now, they were drawing ever closer to it, and its impressive scale was quickly becoming apparent. The topmost spire practically reached to the clouds. Figment had to plunge through a layer of white mist to even reach the castle, set as it was in such a mountainous region.

"Wow," breathed Mia as the clouds parted and they descended towards the outermost courtyard. "It's definitely well-fortified. That's for sure."

To land within the castle walls could be viewed as an attack against the castle, so Blair guided Figment to the front courtyard just outside of the castle gates. Mia and Blair hopped off and Figment reverted back to his natural form. For a moment or so, both Dreamfinder and Figment were a tad wobbly.

"Oh my... Twice in one day. Truthfully, I'm not so sure I could do that a third time."

"Yeah," said Figment, shaking his head. "It's making my head spinny."

Blair took off his top hat and ran a gloved hand through his disheveled hair. From atop the castle wall, two men dressed in uniforms similar to that of the Royal Police, with the addition of short blue capes, called down to them.

"Who goes there?"

"Professor Blarion Mercurial," Blair called back, putting on his hat.

"And Figment!" called Figment.

Blair glanced at his daughter with a smile before calling up again. "And Miandra Mercurial. We seek an audience with the princesses!"

The guards exchanged surprised looks and called to someone on the other side. With a loud creaking and clanking, the front gates were raised, granting them entrance to the castle. Mia followed her father and Figment over the small bridge and into the castle's inner courtyard.

Standing on the other side to greet them was what Mia could only assume was a dwarf, though this man was nothing like the depictions of the dwarves in Disney's _Snow White_. This particular dwarf was more reminiscent of a dwarf from the tabletop roleplay game, Dungeons & Dragons, or better yet, something from the works of J.R.R. Tolkien.

Short statured, but thick and formidable, and dressed in chain mail and leather armor, Mia could have easily believed this dwarf to be Gimli or Thorin Oakenshield. He had vibrant blue eyes and a long blonde beard tied into three braids. In spite of the deadly axe strapped to his back, the dwarf wore a wide, amiable smile on his face.

"Dreamfinder! Dear friend!" said the dwarf, curling his hand into a first and pounding it against his chest three times.

Blair smiled and returned the greeting, pounding on his own chest in the same manner. "It's been some time, hasn't it, Heptin?"

"Far too long! And friend Figment! You're looking fierce as ever!"

"You bet! I've been working out!" Figment flexed his tiny arms, showing... not a lot.

"I see! I see!" the dwarf laughed. "You'll have to give me some tips, my dragon friend!" His shining blue eyes moved to Mia. His smile slipped and a look of surprise replaced it. "Is this her, Dreamfinder?" he said softly. "Your long-lost daughter finally home where she belongs?"

"Why yes. So, you already know."

Quite the happy dwarf, Heptin gave Blair another wide smile. "Of course! It's hard to keep secrets from a dwarf, after all!"

Mia was tempted to ask why that was, but thought perhaps it might be rude.

Heptin returned his gaze to Mia with a truly joyful smile. "It is wonderful, _so_ wonderful to have you back, my lady." He saluted her with another triple pounding of his chest.

My lady, no less! Mia couldn't help the blush which spread across her cheeks. She was uncertain whether she was expected to respond in a similar fashion to Heptin. As it seemed a rather masculine gesture, she opted for smiling and inclining her head.

"Thank you, Mr. Heptin. That's very kind of you."

"Please, my lady... Do away with the 'Mister.' Just Heptin will be fine. The Dreamfinder's daughter is certainly a friend to the dwarves and needs not be so formal."

"Hmph! Speak for yerself!" said a gruff voice.

Blair and Mia turned to see a burly black-haired dwarf walking towards them from across the courtyard. He carried a large hammer at his hip, one that reminded Mia a little of Thor's Hammer from Norse mythology.

"I, for one, could do with more shows of respect."

Heptin rolled his eyes . "You'll have to excuse Gargrom. I _would_ say that he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morn', but alas, it seems there _is_ no right side for him."

"Har, har, Heptin," said the surly dwarf with a narrowed gaze. "What business do they have here."

Heptin gazed at Gargrom in disbelief. "He's _the Dreamfinder_! He doesn't _need_ to be here on business!"

"Actually, friends," Blair interjected. "We _are_ here on business. We desperately need to see the princesses. Are they available?"

"Aye," said Gargrom in his gruff voice. "But Princess Cindy is in the midst of a fierce training session with a few of our brothers."

Mia lifted an eyebrow, "Training?"

_Training for what?_

"Come, come, friends," said Heptin, "We shall take you to them. It shouldn't be a problem."

Heptin and Gargrom led Mia and her father through the inner courtyard. On their way, they passed a beautiful garden, a hedge maze, and a menagerie with all manner of animals contentedly grazing. There were dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, and even some deer and an aviary.

Beyond the gardens, the lawn opened up to a tennis court. There, Mia spied two more dwarves. One with a bushy, graying brown beard stood on the court holding a racket in one hand and rubbing his nose with the other. The second dwarf was sitting on a stone bench beside a young woman who was so beautiful in every way, that Mia would have thought her a statue if not for her gentle admonishments to the dwarf inspecting her arm.

"Really, Doc. I'm fine. Just a little strain is all. I really don't think I've torn a rotator cuff. I wish you'd stop fussing over me." Sensing their presence, the young woman glanced up and leapt to her feet. "Uncle Blair!" she exclaimed.

She dropped her tennis racket and ran towards them across the lawn. Mia tried not to feel jealous as the young woman threw herself into her father's arms. Blair returned the girl's embrace with a soft chuckle.

"Princess Snow! It is so wonderful to see you again!"

"Wait... Princess Snow?" asked Mia, bewildered.

Snow released Blair and turned to Mia. Snow White was not at all what Mia had expected. Certainly, she had hair as black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as... Well, not actually as white as snow, but it was still a pleasing, creamy ivory. She wore a yellow and blue tennis dress and her raven hair was styled in a chic bob.

"Uncle Blair, is this her?" the princess asked, her eyes alight with excitement. "You _must_ be Miandra, right? Right?" Before Mia could answer her, Snow took both her hands in hers and jumped up and down excitedly. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! This is just so awesome! Miandra, home at last!"

"And y-you're Snow White?" asked Mia, astounded, as the young woman practically shook her in her excitement.

The princess laughed. "Just Snow. I mean, I _am_ white, but that's not really my name. I suppose it's a short form of my real name, which is Snow Whitehall. But honestly, imagine, referring to someone by the color of their skin! That'd be like calling you Miandra Tan. But the Grimm Brothers were rather poetic I suppose. I mean, you can't really argue when someone describes you as _the fairest in the land,_ now, can you?"

Mia smiled. "I suppose not."

"It's so wonderful to see you again!" said Snow, this time pulling Mia in for a hug.

Mia blushed. She was being hugged by a princess!

Blair watched happily as Miandra and Snow interacted like old friends. It was somewhat surreal. Snow and Miandra weren't too far removed from one another, age-wise. It seemed impossible, remembering how once upon a time Snow had fought with her older sister over who got to hold baby Miandra. But that was the time difference between Earth and Dizgaia at play. Time moved so much slower here. Thus, Mia aged rather quickly while Snow remained so young. The two could be school mates, from the look of them.

"Hey, hey! What about me?" asked Figment, wanting to share in the love.

"Aww... You too, of course, Figgy," said Snow, placing a kiss on his scaly forehead.

Figment giggled delightedly.

Mia glanced back and forth between her father and Snow. "So, um, you called my father _Uncle Blair._ Does that mean..."

"Oh, we're not _really_ related," explained Snow, "But he's always been a very close friend of the family. So, hence, Uncle Blair."

"I see," said Mia, rubbing the back of her neck embarrassedly. "I suppose I got excited at the idea of being related to royalty."

"Oh, Miandra, you may as well be. You're practically family. I held you when you were a baby, you know. Anyway, you may not _really_ be royalty, but I could easily give you a title, if you'd like."

"A title?" said Mia, her eyes going wide. "Oh, no. I mean, that's not necessary. I don't need a title."

"Are you sure? I could make you a duchess. Like, I can legit do that, you know. Anyway, we can talk about that later. For now, we should go find my sister."

She motioned for Mia and her father to follow her, stopping once to bestow a kiss on Gargrom's head, saying, "Good morning, grumpy-pants," to which the disgruntled dwarf averted his gaze and mumbled incoherently. She waved at the dwarf on the tennis court who was still rubbing his nose.

"We'll play again later, Sneezy! Don't rub it! You'll only make it worse!"

The dwarf tossed his racket aside. "Thad's nod my na—aw, fuh-get-it." He blew his nose loudly into a handkerchief.

The elder dwarf, whom Snow had referred to as _Doc_ , approached his younger brother. "I told you, Svenier, I have ways of battling these allergies of yours."

Svenier waved him off. "It's owny becad da court's so close to da animals. 'Sides, I'm nod wubbing thad smelly sap and root concogshun on my nose again, Dalnur."

"Not that you could really smell it, anyway," muttered Dalnur.

Mia was rather intrigued by the interactions of the two dwarves that Snow referred to as Sneezy and Doc. It would appear those weren't their real names. These dwarves certainly shared some mannerisms with their Disney movie counterparts; but aside from that, their looks, formidable stature, clothing, and weaponry were entirely different, which Mia found quite interesting.

Blair chuckled as he and Miandra followed Snow, Heptin, and Gargrom. "I see you're all about the same as you've ever been around here."

Heptin laughed and slapped Blair jovially on the back. Blair staggered forward, catching his hat as it toppled off his head and into his hands. The dwarf didn't seem to know his own strength.

"Should we be any different, friend Dreamfinder?"

Snow led them inside the castle, flanked by Heptin and Gargrom. They walked through an antechamber with a high, vaulted ceiling whose architecture was reminiscent of that from the Late Baroque or rococo period. Mia turned slowly in a circle, marveling at the fancy pillars and columns and gilded arches in the ceiling.

"Wow," she murmured, her voice echoing throughout the vestibule. She wanted to snap a picture with her phone, but then she remembered it was still in her backpack, back at the Imagination Institute. Finally, they arrived at a set of large, ornate wooden doors.

"Best keep quiet and stick to the walls," warned Snow. "Sometimes it gets a bit crazy in there."

At first confused by her words, Mia soon discovered their meaning as Heptin and Gargrom pushed open the doors and they entered a large ballroom. But the room was not being used for its namesake. Far from it. Instead, in the center of the room, a young woman was engaged in the heat of battle with two dwarves.

The woman wore a light blue tunic cinched over brown breeches with boots, leather gauntlets, and a metal helmet. Only the curves of her bosom and womanly hips revealed to Mia that this was indeed a woman. Mia watched in fascination as the woman, wielding a single sword, fended off the pair of formidable dwarves, armed with a sword each. They looked much younger than the other dwarves, and for all their lack of height, they were stocky and far more physically imposing than the woman they did battle against. However, this did not seem to be a detriment to the female fighter as she not only held her ground, but even gained the upper hand.

One dwarf had red hair and a closely groomed beard. The other wore a wide grin and had somewhat prominent ears with a mess of brown hair atop his head, and – a very unusual trend for a dwarf – no facial hair at all. If Mia had to guess, this dwarf was the youngest.

The two kept the woman busy while another dwarf stood off to the side, leaning against a column, fast asleep. This dwarf, with his white hair, long white beard and drowsy demeanor, looked like he could well be the oldest dwarf here. Mia stood beside her father and Snow with her back against the wall, watching in fascination. The clanging and clashing of steel echoed throughout the ballroom chamber.

"Ah," said Blair, a smile coming to his face. "Formidable as ever, Cindy is."

Mia could not take her eyes off the swordswoman, even as she questioned her father in disbelief. "Cindy? You mean... _that's_ Cinderella???" Her words echoed throughout the chamber, causing the fighters to pause in their battle.

The old dwarf dozing against the pillar snorted awake. "Wha— Oh! Ahem. Yes. I think that's enough for today, children." He nodded at the three fighters like a satisfied instructor, as though he hadn't just been snoozing.

"Hey, Cindy!" called Snow. "Look who's here!"

The swordswoman lifted off her helmet and shook her head, sending a cascade of long, golden silk to fall about her shoulders and back. A pair of striking blue eyes gazed out at them as she brushed her bangs off her face.

"Let's call it a day, gentlemen," she said in a voice that was huskier than Mia would have expected. It was similar to that of a heroine from a post-apocalyptic action movie she'd once seen but couldn't quite place at the moment.

The two dwarves seemed more than happy to take a breather. The clean-shaven dwarf grinned at the other. "I about had her this time, Barsdaal. Two more moves..." He swung his sword in a mock fight. "...I woulda won!"

The other dwarf rolled his eyes. "The only thing you woulda won, Dufin, was another embarrassing defeat. There's no besting Cindy with the sword."

"Hey, who's the girl?" asked Dufin.

Barsdaal's eyes alighted upon the newcomer in the pretty blue dress with flowers in her hair. His cheeks turned bright pink, clashing horribly with the color of his beard. "W-Wow. She's really... She's really p-p-p—"

"Not again," Dufin groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Uncle Blair," Cinderella greeted as she crossed the room to them. "It's wonderful to see you!" She kissed him on the cheek, making him blush.

"As it is you, my dear. I must admit it's been a while."

Then, as though suddenly realizing Blair was not alone, Cindy stepped back from him and gazed, wide-eyed, at Mia. She brought a gauntleted hand to her mouth and gasped. 

"M-Miandra?" she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Y-Yes, uh, your highness," stammered Mia. "It's an honor to meet—" Before Mia could say more, Cinderella pulled her into a tight embrace and began to cry.

"Always so emotional, Cindy," her sister teased. "Come on. Ease up. You reek, and Miandra doesn't want your sweat all over her."

Cindy moved Mia to arms' length and gave her sister an annoyed glare.

"Well, it's true," said Snow.

Cindy ignored her as she gazed between Mia and the Dreamfinder. "When? How?" was all she managed to croak.

"Seriously, sis?" said Snow. " _Everyone's_ been talking about it. Where've you been the past 24 hours?"

Cindy gave her sister a haughty look. "You know I've been fasting and meditating for three days, Snow."

Snow rolled her eyes. "You and this weird new-age craze. I swear."

"She arrived yesterday," Blair replied. "One of my brightest Imagineers rescued her on Earth. Cindy..." The delight in his eyes had gone out and a grim countenance took its place. "The Dark Ones... They've begun to move again."

~~~

Following the Dreamfinder's cryptic news, Cindy and Snow led Mia and her father into a chamber which served as a meeting hall of sorts with a single long table in the center. Cindy sat at the head of the table, Snow to her right. Blair sat at Cindy's left and Mia sat on the other side of her father. On Mia's other side and across from her sat the two dwarves who'd been sparring with Cindy. The rest of the table was similarly filled with the other five dwarves. Although there were many guards and soldiers protecting the castle, it seemed the seven dwarves were the most highly respected, and thus considered a council of sorts to the two princesses.

Mia gazed around, marveling at the sight of 12 people seated at a single table with tapestries hanging off the stone walls behind them. "It's like we're the knights of the round table," she said.

"But Mia," said Figment, who was sitting in her lap, "This table is a rectangle."

"Yes, I know, Figment. What I mean is... Oh, never mind."

"I wish I could say we came to the castle today simply so I could reintroduce Miandra to everyone. But unfortunately, that is not the case," said Blair. "Miandra's return has been plagued with villainous intervention. While an encounter with Gaston had much to do with her return, it goes back even further. This concerns you, specifically, Cindy. Your former foster mother, Lady Tremaine, has been working as an agent for The Dark Ones on Earth in a position of authority at Miandra's college. She was trying to snuff out her spark."

"What?" gasped Cindy. "My stepmother? You're absolutely certain, Blair?"

Blair gave a resolute nod, and Mia and Figment both began to talk at once, describing their encounter with Lady Tremaine on the monorail.

"Woah, woah," said Cindy, holding up a hand. "Slow down, Miandra. Figment, please. Perhaps it would be best if you started from the beginning. Tell me, Miandra, was my stepmother really posing as a professor on Earth?"

Mia nodded and proceeded to tell her about her meeting with 'Professor Tremblay,' her college advisor, and how that awful meeting had resulted in her subsequently dropping out. Then, she recounted the events that took place at Disney World, starting with how 'Professor Tremblay' had sabotaged her internship.

"And then Gaston showed up. I thought he was just some crazy character actor at first. He said something about..." She skewed her face as she tried to remember exactly what it was he'd said. "Well, when I begged him not to hurt me, he said he wouldn't dream of it. He said, 'Today is the day our plans come to fruition,' and that those plans included me and that I was to come with him. Then, Flynn and Tron showed up and—"

"Wait a minute, Miandra," said Cindy. "You said he _didn't_ intend to harm you?"

"That's what he said, anyway," she replied.

"He was just there to kidnap you, then?"

"Seems like it."

Cindy traced her lips with her index finger, looking pensive. "Curious. Do go on."

Mia continued her tale about her arrival on Dizgaia and of meeting her father, concluding with her run-in with the Tremaines and the beating she'd taken at the hands of Cindy's wicked stepsisters.

"Their treatment of you is absolutely abhorrent," said Cindy, bristling with indignation. "And believe me, there is no love lost between me and my foster family. I'm well aware of Anastasia and Drizella's proclivity to violence, and rest assured I will have them punished most severely for that. However, to say that they're working for the Dark Ones... That's a grave accusation. It's not that I don't believe you about Lady Tremaine's presence at your university, and it is admittedly difficult for me to think of any other motive. But you must understand my position. I'm afraid I would need further proof that Lady Tremaine is working as an agent for The Dark Ones before I could act."

"Uncle Blair," said Snow, "Is there anything more you can share with us that would allow Cindy to take further action?"

"There is," said Blair. "This morning, Miandra and I encountered the Tremaines. But they weren't alone. They had none other than Wonderland's most notorious villains watching out for them. The Mad Hatter and The March Hare apertured through an unprotected mirror in Lydia's Boutique."

Mia knew immediately by the dwarves' reactions and the exchanged glances between Cindy and Snow that this was a serious situation indeed.

"Wonderlanders?" said the dwarves, aghast. "Here in Cerenopia?!"

"That's never happened!"

"It's unheard of! The Hatter and The Hare coming here!"

"It's true," said Blair. "And since Lady Tremaine knew their cover had been exposed, The Hatter and The Hare helped them escape through the mirror."

Cindy's face had taken on a sickly pallor. "God help us," she murmured. "I would imagine there were other witnesses aside from the three of you?"

"The shop owner, Lydia, and many other customers saw them," said Mia. "And I overheard them. They were planning to run away. In fact, when they spotted me, just before The Hatter and The Hare came through the mirror, Lady Tremaine said I was coming with them. I don't know why."

"Not only that," added Blair, "The March Hare attempted to capture Miandra as well. I put a stop to that, but I couldn't stop The Hatter from helping the Tremaines escape."

Cindy's expression was grim. "I see. Gargrom," she said, turning to the surly dwarf. "Issue an edict to the citizens of Cerenopia that Lady Tremaine and her daughters are henceforth enemies of state. If they are seen, the Royal Police are to be summoned at once. Though I doubt we'll be seeing them any time soon."

"Sure thing, Princess," said Gargrom. "Oooh... That wench, Tremaine. I knew I smelled a foulness about her and her brood."

"Surprise, surprise, Cindy," droned Snow. "Your foster mother's evil. _No one_ saw _that_ coming."

"You're one to talk, Snow."

"I spoke, afterwards, with Special Agent Royo of the AMPA," said Blair. "He's investigating the mirror situation in Lydia's shop. With this most recent event, I have no doubt you'll be hearing from them. They're now on high alert. As for us, we all know The Dark Ones have been quiet for some time. However, it seems my daughter..." He looked at Miandra with a remorseful frown. "... has drawn their attention."

"Indeed, that is what interests me," said Cindy. "This progression of their attacks on Miandra. We remember all too well Maleficent's attack on your family years ago. At the time, you said her intention had been to kill Miandra. But recently, Gaston was sent to Earth merely to kidnap her. Gaston is a formidable hunter and one of Maleficent's best assassins. I would assume if she wanted Miandra dead, Gaston would have gotten the job done before Flynn ever interfered. Miandra herself attested that he had no intentions of hurting her."

"And with what Lady Tremaine said, and with The Hare's attempts at kidnapping her, I have to wonder why Maleficent hasn't simply ordered her to be killed," said Snow.

"Which makes me wonder exactly what it is that Maleficent wants with Miandra," said Cindy.

"I guess that's supposed to make me feel a little better?" Mia asked weakly, not feeling much better at all. Either killed or kidnapped for some unknown purpose, it was all the same to her.

Cindy gave her a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry. I do not mean to speak so casually about it. I'm sure this all must be very frightening and confusing for you. But rest assured, Miandra, that we will do everything we can to make sure you are safe within Cerenopia's boundaries."

Dufin, the youngest and least hairy of the dwarves, took it upon himself to break up the foreboding atmosphere with a bit of levity.

"Yeah, Miss!" he said, "You can't find better protection! Not with Barsdaal by your side."

Barsdaal, who'd been quiet for the entire meeting and had the misfortune of sitting next to the Dreamfinder's pretty daughter, went wide-eyed. "Wh-What?" He turned his gaze to Mia and his face turned pink. "W-Well, I... I, um..."

"Yeah," Dufin continued, grinning widely. "Barsdaal could be your personal bodyguard!"

"Wha-what?! I, um, that is..." Barsdaal gulped and rubbed the back of his neck, trying hard not to look at Mia.

"Aww, what's wrong, Bashful?" asked Snow, joining in on the fun. "Don't you _want_ to protect Miandra?" She feigned a frown. "Don't you like her? I mean, look at that pretty face of hers. She's just so sweet and young and helpless."

Mia wasn't sure she felt comfortable with this, but she still found it comical. She had to chew her lip to keep from smiling too much, which only seemed to make matters worse for Barsdaal. Perhaps it was a coyer look than she'd intended.

Cindy shot Snow a reproving glance. "Must you always antagonize him?"

"What? I'm not antagonizing him. I'm _teasing_ him. There's a difference, right?" she said, turning to Dufin for affirmation.

"Absolutely! And if Princess Snow says it, then it must be true!"

Barsdaal lifted an eyebrow as a ghost of a smirk crossed his face. "Sure... Princess Snow's always spot on... right, _Dopey?_ "

"Hey! Only Snow gets to call me Dopey!" he shouted, lunging across the table after Barsdaal. But Heptin grabbed him before he could get more than halfway across.

"Settle down, lad! Settle down!"

"Sorry," said Snow, smiling sheepishly. "See, I had wanted to give everyone nicknames. And because Dufin is always so silly and playing pranks and cracking jokes, I wanted to give him a name like _Silly_ or _Funny_ or something. But I'd already given everyone else nicknames that started with the same letter of their actual name and I didn't want to break the alliteration cycle. So, I started calling Dufin _Dopey._ " She gave Dufin an apologetic look."I regret it now, but unfortunately, it's sort of stuck with the other dwarves, who like to tease him about it."

Barsdaal spoke through clenched teeth. "I only tease him about it when he teases _me_ about my... about my..."

"Bashfulness," Dufin finished for him, grinning again.

Barsdaal glared at Dufin.

"Barsdaal is hopeless around attractive women," Dufin told Mia. "He used to be the same with Cindy and Snow, but we've known them for so long, he's been desensitized to 'em."

"Well, I'm flattered to know I qualify," said Mia with a friendly smile to Barsdaal, who went three shades of pink and buried his face in his arms.

Dalnur, whom Snow had referred to as Doc on the tennis court, cleared his throat loudly. "All fun aside, children, this matter with the Dark Ones is most serious. If I may, Cynthia, I would suggest we reach out to the other kingdoms and find out if any other sort of... unsavory activity has occurred."

Blair nodded to the grandfatherly Dalnur. "A wise course of action! With the other kingdoms on high alert and the AMPA keeping their eyes open, we can at least breathe a bit easier."

Cindy, or Cynthia, as her real name apparently was, nodded. "That's a very good point, Dalnur. More activity involving The Dark Ones is something that concerns _all_ of Dizgaia. I will dispatch an emissary to the nine other kingdoms who will convey the news of this most recent activity."

All were in agreement and the meeting was about to adjourn when Mia piped up. "Wait a sec. I'm still a little confused. Why are the Mad Hatter and March Hare evil? Why are Wonderlanders spoken of with such fear?"

She looked to her father, addressing him specifically. "You've told me all about the 10 Kingdoms and their guardians, but you haven't gone into detail about the Dark Ones. All I know about them is what the Disney films and their prior source material says about them, and I'm already learning very quickly that not everything is the way I expect it to be."

Mia's words were received with eleven uncomfortable expressions, and her father suddenly looked rather pale, as though he wished he'd never promised to tell her more.

"Please," she begged. "I have to know _sometime._ "

"You're right, of course," Blair sighed. "Perhaps it is time you learned. I only wish you could live in this world peacefully and free of the terrors that Dizgaia's villains can inflict, but that would seem to be a luxury I cannot afford you, dear."

Everyone at the table waited with baited breath. No one wanted to do the honor of telling Mia these things, but neither would they stop Blair from telling his daughter what needed to be told.

"As you know from Earth, the stories from Disney and their literary counterparts all share tales of wonderful adventures full of wonderful heroes. But those heroes wouldn't have had adventures were there not villains to oppose them. In this world, there is a large continent, a landmass that is, for all intents and purposes, a living nightmare. We call it The Dark Continent. It is there where this world's evils originate."

The soft baritone of her father's voice, combined with an accent reminiscent of 1800s English was perfect for storytelling, as evidenced by the fact that not just Mia, but the entire group, for whom none of this was news, listened with rapt attention. Even Sliryn, the oldest dwarf, awoke from his doze to listen.

"Long ago, long before the 10 Kingdoms stood together, a great evil sought to claim this world as his own. From a netherrealm known as Tytla, the demon lord, Chernabog, desired to extend his reach all over Dizgaia. Chernabog possessed immense power, and there were those who were attracted to that sort of power. The most notable, of course, is the evil fairy sorceress, Maleficent."

"Chernabog?" asked Mia, tilting her head quizzically.

The name sounded vaguely familiar. Suddenly, flashes of memories of an orchestral movie shot through her head – a giant, demonic, winged creature looming over a mountain, smiting the feeble mortals below him. Mia's faced paled, her eyes growing ever wider.

"You mean that... that _thing_ from Disney's _Fantasia?_ That giant, devil-looking... demon thing? _That thing_ is real?"

Everyone else at the table was silent and still as the grave. Some even turned their gazes away. After all, the Dreamfinder was speaking of the most powerful evil that Dizgaia had ever known.

"Indeed, he is, Miandra," said Blair gravely. "And he wished to spread his evil influence all across the world. However, to do that, he needed an army. Maleficent became his chosen commander, residing in her black castle built into the side of Bald Mountain. She's orchestrated all of Chernabog's desires for a long time. She's also responsible for bringing the Dark Ones together to ensure Chernabog gained the armies he desired. You're likely already familiar with those under the influence of the demon lord."

"Well, yeah. The Disney villains, right? Jafar, Hades, Captain Hook, et cetera. But where does Wonderland fit into all this? I mean, in the films and even in Lewis Carrol's book, Wonderland was a crazy place, granted, but it was meant to be whimsical. My personal feelings on it aside, I don't think that was ever the intention. And the Mad Hatter and March Hare were crazy... but evil?" She shook her head, bewildered.

"Oooh, I wish we didn't have to talk about them," said Figment. "Wonderlanders are some of the scariest people there are!"

"And for good reason, Figment. Wonderland is the land that surrounds the base of Bald Mountain. It is a place of unhinged madness, which makes it the perfect barricade to any potential invading forces who wish to wage war on Maleficent. Wonderland is where the oddest assortment of Chernabog's minions run amok. Very few outsiders who step foot into Wonderland have the opportunity to return with their mental faculties intact."

Mia tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shiver. "So, Chernabog's like the devil who rules over all the Dark Ones. His second in command and enforcer of his will is Maleficent. And I suppose if Wonderland makes up much of this Dark Continent, then the Queen of Hearts would be third in command?"

"Wrong on two accounts, Miandra," said Snow with none of her usual warmth and childlike glee. "The ruler of Wonderland is _fourth_ in command. Hades comes after Maleficent in the Dark Ones' hierarchy."

"God of the Underworld," Mia murmured. "I suppose that makes sense. So, what's the other thing I got wrong?"

Snow shifted uncomfortably in her chair and exchanged a glance with Cindy, who shook her head, unable to speak. It would seem that Cindy was overcome with emotion again, though this time it was quite the opposite of the emotion she'd shown in the ballroom.

"See, Miandra, it's like this," said Snow, casting nervous glances at the others. "You have to understand no one likes to talk about this. In fact, it would be best if you refrained from referencing anything to do with Wonderland all together. Here in Dizgaia, that's sort of like swearing. It's just not a conversation one has in proper company. But you need to know, so..."

Snow took a deep breath and plunged on. "The Queen of Hearts _used_ to be in command of Wonderland. But after she committed the crime of developing a conscience, Maleficent sought someone to usurp her. For this, she chose a little girl."

" _Alice?"_ Mia exclaimed. "You mean Alice rules Wonderland and is _fourth_ in the Dark One's hierarchy?"

"It's true, dear," said Blair with a sorrowful sigh. "Many years ago, Alice Tenniel, the daughter of a Paridonian aristocratic family followed a strange little rabbit down a hole and ended up discovering a rift that led directly into Wonderland. Somehow, the child escaped, but she wasn't the same after that. She came back deeply disturbed. It was said that young Alice slept very little and claimed to hear voices no one else heard. And whereas she used to be a happy, loving child, she soon took solace and comfort only by gazing longingly into a mirror which had somehow come into the family's possession. Eventually, the voices called to Alice one last time, and Alice followed them... through the looking glass."

"Dear God," said Mia, covering her mouth. "That's horrible. How old was she?"

"Eleven," said Cindy, her voice a hoarse croak. "Truly just a little girl."

"Still is, as a matter of fact," said Snow. "Wonderland is no Neverland. Actually, it's sort of the antithesis of Neverland, but one thing they share is that whoever resides there never ages. But while it's sort of a whimsical side effect of being on Neverland, it has a more sinister feel in Wonderland. Everything does."

"That poor little girl," said Mia.

"She was," said Cindy. "Now, though..."

"Now she's a demon in a little girl's body," Snow finished. "The return trip through the looking glass to Wonderland finally broke her. She went more than crazy. She went bad. _Very_ bad. With the help of The Mad Hatter and The March Hare, Alice killed the Queen of Hearts and instated herself as ruler of Wonderland... all according to Maleficent's plan."

Sliryn, the eldest and sleepiest dwarf, no longer looked very tired as he added his piece. "That child... She's bloodthirsty. And with her Vorpal Sword, she can cut the soul right out of you in one swipe. Send it straight to Hades, it would."

Figment shivered and lowered his head at the edge of the table. "Now you know, Miandra, why everyone is so scared when you say..." He gulped. "Down the rabbit hole."

"Wonderland," said Blair, "is quite possibly the most dreadful place in this entire world. Most regular citizens prefer to pretend it doesn't exist. Unfortunately, today we received a stark reminder that it most certainly does."

Mia suppressed a shiver. It was certainly an intriguing story, though Mia wished that was all it was; a scary story told by friends around a campfire. But this wasn't the case. Somewhere out there in this world in which she now found herself, was a hellscape called Wonderland and a bloodthirsty little girl with a Vorpal sword, whose friends were those like the Mad Hatter and the March Hare.

"And the mirrors?" she ventured.

"All tied into the first mirror that mysteriously came into the Tenniel family's possession," said Snow. "Obviously, the mirror was confiscated after the event. In fact, with the help of your father and the other brilliant minds at the Imagination Institute, the mirror was repurposed into Dreamports, giving us a way to travel instantaneously from each of the 10 Kingdoms. However, while the Dreamports are safe, Wonderlanders have perfected the art of spying through other mirrors and even using them as conduits to leap from their side to ours."

"Yes," said Cindy. "Though heavy enchantments have been placed over Cerenopia as well as the other nine kingdoms to prevent that from happening."

"But enchantments can grow old and become outdated and less effective with time," said Snow.

"Like antivirus software on a computer," said Mia, nodding.

"Exactly," said Snow. "And when people fail to update their mirror protection enchantments..."

"Certain Wonderlanders have a knack for finding weaknesses in the enchantments and exploiting that," finished Cindy.

"Like the Mad Hacker," said Mia.

Everyone gazed at her, confused.

"The Mad Hatter," Mia explained, blushing a bit embarrassedly, for she'd thought it a good joke. "That's my nickname for him, since he's like a computer hacker, only with mirrors."

"Ah. I get it," said Snow, though she didn't seem particularly amused. "Anyway, that's what the AMPA is for – making sure everyone is up-to-date with their mirror protection and issuing citations and performing updates for those who don't."

Everything was starting to click together. It all made sense now. However...

"I have another question," said Mia.

Gargrom groaned. Figment covered his eyes as though this would help him not hear whatever scary question she might have.

"Sorry," she said, "But this Chernabog... If he's so dangerous and mighty, how is it that... Well, how is it that we're not all dead? I mean, that thing was _huge_ in the movie. And you yourselves attested he's a demon. It seems nothing less than a miracle that we're all alive and that Dizgaia itself hasn't fallen completely under his control."

"That, Miandra," said Blair, "is something I'd actually be _happy_ to tell you about. You see, a long, long time ago, Chernabog was sealed away, trapped in the demon realm of Tytla by a powerful enchantment placed by the Order of Yen Sid."

"There's that name again," said Mia. "Yen Sid. Who is that exactly?"

"You would have seen him the same place you saw Chernabog, Miandra – in Disney's orchestral film, _Fantasia._ "

Mia furrowed her brow in thought. She certainly wished she had a working phone on hand and access to Disney's Wiki page right about now.

"Think Mickey Mouse," said Snow.

"Fantasia... Mickey Mouse... _The Sorcerer's Apprentice_? Wait, you mean that wizard guy?"

"Bingo."

"Yen Sid is a very powerful, benevolent wizard responsible for the instruction of some of Dizgaia's most talented magic users," said Blair. "Those who studied directly beneath him became what we call _The Order of Yen Sid._ "

"You mean like Elsa or Mary Poppins?"

"Mary Poppins did not study under Yen Sid, nor is she a part of the Order; though she is a dear, talented friend, and her powers of illusion and telekinesis are something to behold. Still, they're not quite up to par with what those of us in the order can do. And it is unclear how Elsa came by her powers, but neither is she a member of the order. She is, after all, a neutral party. The order is made up of the seven most powerful magic users across the 10 Allied Kingdoms."

"Who are they?"

"Well, there's Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather, of course," said Blair.

"And Freya, who you would know as _The Blue Fairy_ from _Pinocchio_ ," added Snow.

"And _The Fairy Godmother_ from _Cinderella,"_ said Cindy with a knowing smile. "Whose real name is Adora."

"All women," Mia said with a grin. "It's like Yen Sid's Angels."

Cindy and Snow exchanged a confused glance. Blair, too, looked befuddled.

"Sorry?"

"Like _Charlie's Angels_. You know, the old crime drama? Oh... No, I suppose you wouldn't know."

"In either case, Miandra, most of Yen Sid's students may happen to be women, but it's not _all_ women," said Cindy. "There's one more very important person who belongs to the Order."

"And who's that?"

"Your father," said Cindy with a smile.

" _You?_ " asked Mia, turning to Blair in surprise. "You're part of a magical order of wizards and fairies?"

"Well," said Blair, blushing, "I don't like to brag, but—"

"Oh, brag away, Uncle Blair," said Snow. "You have every right to."

"Well, I—"

"Your father is amazing, Miandra," said Snow, leaning across the table towards her, eyes sparkling. "He's up there with some of Dizgaia's top magic users. He's more powerful than he lets on."

"But you work at the Imagination Institute," Mia said to her father, confused. "Why do that when you could—"

"I am a scientist at heart, Miandra," Blair explained with a soft smile. "The adventure of discovery is what appeals to me most. Besides, magical abilities manifest themselves in different ways. I may be powerful, but my magic is different than that of my peers. I came across my abilities quite by accident. But that is a story for another time, I think."

"Oh, all right," sighed Mia. She really wanted to know more, but in the interest of time, she narrowed her focus to the relevant topic at hand. "So you, Yen Sid, and the others all sealed Chernabog away?"

"Yes. The seven of us sealed him inside Bald Mountain, which is the gateway to Tytla. We've ensured that the gateway will not be opened again."

"Are you sure? Didn't you say Maleficent's castle is on Bald Mountain?"

"It is true that Maleficent took up residence there after we sealed him. I do not doubt she wishes to unleash him, but she has not the ability."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, Miandra, it took seven of Dizgaia's most powerful magic users of light to seal him away," Blair explained. "It would take an equal number of dark magic users to unleash him. While Maleficent certainly has her entourage of magical villains, her arsenal in that area is a little short. And while she herself is the most powerful _dark_ magic user, Yen Sid is the most powerful magic user of _light_. In fact, he may be the most powerful magic user in all of Dizgaia."

"More powerful than Maleficent?"

"I believe so."

"Well, thank God for that," said Mia with a relieved laugh. "In that case, we can just let Yen Sid know that the Dark Ones are up to something and call on him for help."

"Actually, I'm afraid it's not that simple, Miandra," said Blair.

"Why not?"

"Yen Sid is sort of like a god in this world," Cindy explained. "Not quite like the unseen, omnipotent entity the people of your Earth refer to as _God,_ but he is still rarely seen. Oftentimes, even contacting him proves a near impossible task, but he always seems to show up when he's most needed."

"While it's always wonderful to see the great Yen Sid," said Snow, "If he _does_ show up, you can bet the worst has happened and things are at their absolute most dire."

"Oh," said Mia. It would seem that for now, they must face this current threat without Yen Sid's help and hope that things would not get bad enough to need him.

"If there are no more questions and everyone is satisfied with the current plan of action," said Cindy, "I call this meeting adjourned."

Everyone rose from their seats. Blair tipped his hat to the princesses in farewell, but Cindy stopped him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"Uncle Blair, won't you and Miandra stay for dinner? It would be our honor to have you. I'd hate for us to part ways on such a somber and foreboding note. Besides, it would give Snow and I a chance to get to know you better, Miandra. After all, when we last saw you, you were only a baby."

"That's right," said Snow. "And now you're about my age, if I were to venture a guess. I can already tell we're going to be great friends! Please say you'll stay for dinner! Pleeeaaase..."

Mia glanced at her father, smiling hopefully. "Could we?"

"Might as well. Let's get you ladies properly acquainted, shall we?"

~~~

Blair and Mia were ushered into an expansive dining hall. There was a single, long table, far larger than the one in the council room, adorned with a beautiful white table cloth with gold trim. Above them hung a gorgeous crystal chandelier, and behind them was a huge window that took up nearly half the wall, overlooking the castle grounds.

After cleaning herself up, Cindy rejoined them, now adorned in a beautiful blue evening gown and looking very much like the princess she truly was. Servants eagerly and graciously attended them. The princesses talked and laughed with those who served them like they were all dear friends. Mia was impressed by their casualness and kindness. They never behaved like they thought they were better than everyone else just because they were princesses, not even a lowly servant. Mia was quickly coming to love them both.

Throughout dinner, Cindy and Snow grilled Mia about her life on Earth. She told them everything – except, of course, of her artistry and her dreams of becoming a novelist. She feared they'd ask to see a sample. It was one thing to show her art to Blair, her father, but an entirely different thing letting two esteemed royals such as the princesses see it. Besides, she'd not even let her father read her writings as of yet. Mia almost feared Blair would bring it up, but he seemed to sense her discomfort and did not overstep his boundaries.

Cindy and Snow enjoyed hearing Mia regale them with her preconceived ideas of them from the fairy tales, and subsequently enjoyed correcting her on everything that Disney and the Grimm Brothers got wrong. Mia already knew from Naveen that Queen Grimhilde poisoned Cindy and Snow's father, King Elias, and sent Cindy to live with the Tremaines. And she had quickly come to realize that the seven dwarves were not so aptly named as Disney's _Snow White_ would have everyone believe, even if Snow did bestow those nicknames on them.

Talking with the princesses over dinner, Mia further learned that Snow White was only 10 when she ran away from her stepmother and was taken in and raised by the dwarves. She was, indeed, later poisoned with an apple given to her by Queen Grimhilde in disguise, but it wasn't a prince who'd awakened her from her death-like sleep. Instead, it was the combined love of her seven adopted fathers that awoke her. When she was 16, she met the prince who, at the same time, was courting her 19-year-old sister, whom she knew nothing about.

Meanwhile, Cindy, who's stepsisters called her _Cinderella_ in a mocking combination of her first and middle names, Cynthia Eleanor, had long since run away with the prince and was living in a castle in some far-off, distant land. Cynthia and the alleged Prince Charming were engaged to be married when he went off to seduce her younger sister as part of a plot by Queen Grimhilde. The prince intended to seduce both princesses and gradually take them out of the picture so that Queen Grimhilde could rule Cerenopia, thus claiming it as territory for Maleficent and the Order of Chernabog.

Adora, or _The Fairy Godmother,_ as she was called by the Brothers Grimm, had discovered this treachery, and so attended Cindy's bridal shower with the gift of a single glass slipper.

"There was only ever one slipper to begin with," said Cindy.

The glass slipper was apparently enchanted, and looking into it, Cindy was able to see the prince's treachery and what the evil queen was up to. She quickly cancelled her engagement, rescued Snow from the prince's clutches, and the two sisters, with help from Adora and the dwarves, ousted Queen Grimhilde and took their rightful place as rulers of Cerenopia.

Both Cindy and Snow had a few choice words to describe Prince Charming, words that Mia never expected to hear from a princess' mouth, and ones which made Blair blush from the tip of his nose to the tops of his ears.

"He apparently goes by several different names and identities. We're not even sure he's a real prince," said Cindy scathingly.

After dinner, they retired to the courtyard. The princesses showed Mia their menagerie. She got to play with all manner of animals. Even the deer took sugar cubes right from her hand, and the birds were so used to people that they landed on any outstretched finger and tweeted and cooed cheerfully. Next, Mia received a tour of the gardens, for which the unfortunate Svenier and Barsdaal were her guides. Svenier kept sneezing as he was allergic to most of the flowers, and Barsdaal could barely get a sentence out as he kept blushing and stammering every time he looked at Mia.

Cindy and Blair trailed behind. Mia tried not to feel jealous as Cindy walked arm and arm with her father. She understood that Cindy and Snow thought of her father as family, like an uncle of sorts. Mia knew she shouldn't be selfish, but the idea of sharing him so soon after finally meeting him wasn't overly appealing to her. Nonetheless, she allowed it, for she did very much like Cindy.

After their walk through the gardens, Snow convinced Mia to play a game of tennis with her.

"Careful, Miandra," warned Cindy. "Snow's just looking for another victim. She's currently the reigning champion of Kingstone Garden Party in Paridon. I'm surprised you didn't see her trophies in the grand hall. She's usually just itching to show off."

"Oh, lay off, Cindy," said Snow.

In an effort to be fair, Snow gave herself a handicap by taking Svenier as a teammate, who kept sneezing because the tennis courts were so close to the princesses' pet menagerie. To Mia, she gave Dufin, who was pretty decent player. In a further show of sportsmanship, since Mia could not play in her new dress heels, Snow doffed her tennis shoes and the two girls played barefoot.

"It does me good to see you smile again, Uncle Blair," said Cindy as they watched Mia and Snow play.

"She looks so much like her mother," said Blair, not once taking his eyes off his daughter.

"She looks a lot like you, too," said Cindy. "The color of her hair, her eyes... But more than that. It's her mind, her intellect, and her spark."

"Oh, what a spark, indeed!" said Blair. "It's more wonderful than I'd imagined. When she was just a baby, it was certainly bright. But now it's ever so much brighter."

"She's going to do great things, Uncle Blair."

"Yes, I think so, too."

"Which reminds me," said Cindy. "I want to do something special for Miandra, and for you, to celebrate her return. I'm thinking a kingdom-wide celebration is in order. Perhaps a Main Street style parade, put on by your brightest Imagineers from the institute."

"Why, that's a marvelous idea!"

"I'll put the word out post haste, and in a week's time, we'll have ourselves a real celebration."

The tennis game was brought to a halt when the princess' dog, Bruno, made off with the ball. Dufin chased him around the courtyard, with both laughter and cheers of encouragement from Mia and Snow as he playfully wrestled the dog to the ground. Meanwhile, Svenier sneezed himself into a stupor and was escorted away by Dalnur, with promises that the sap and root concoction would truly work wonders on his allergies.

Blair gazed up at the slowly descending sun as it set the blue sky afire with its red light. Soon, the sky would turn purple and dusk would fall. As much fun as they were having, the idea of flying an imaginarily exhausted Figment back to Epcot after nightfall was not a pleasing one. It was time to consider heading back.

"I'm very glad to have had this time together, princesses. But I think it's best that Miandra, Figment, and myself were on our way."

"Aww... But we were having so much fun," whined Figment, who was now wielding a tennis racket himself and getting ready to serve a very slobbery ball to Dufin.

But Blair was resolute in his decision to depart. Mia, however, looked like she was getting up the gumption to say something.

"Something on your mind, Miandra?" her father asked.

"Yeah, um, about that... I meant to bring this up sooner, but I wasn't able to find the right time. I guess now is as good a time as any." Taking a deep breath and locking eyes with her father, she said, "I think we should go home. Like, to our for-real home. As in, the house on Tomorrow Hill."

Blair's smile fell. "How do you know about—"

"Naveen told me last night," she explained.

"Miandra, going back to Tomorrow Hill... I-I don't know about that. I mean, in that house, there's just so much..."

It was obvious that the idea of returning to their old home weighed heavily on her father. The house held a lot of memories. Many of them painful. After all, it was the last place they'd been a real family before her mother took her and left him.

"I know," said Mia. "I know it's hard for you. I know there are painful memories tied to that place, but there are also good ones, right? Besides, it's not healthy for you to live at the Imagination Institute all day and night, especially now that _I'm_ here. You can't sleep hunched over your desk every night. And I... I want to see my old house. _Our_ old house."

"She's right, Uncle Blair," said Snow.

Cindy placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's time," she said. "After all, your daughter has returned to you. I know..." She hesitated, averting her gaze and biting her lip before plunging on. "I know Beverly is gone, and I know that must hurt. But you have Miandra, and you deserve to live like a normal family again."

Cindy's gentle reasoning and the look on Snow's face, like she very well might pout about it for the rest of her life if he said no, were only small encouragements. It was the look on Miandra's face, the look of a young woman who just longed to go home, that made him truly consider it for the first time in a long time.

"You all feel this way?"

Mia nodded, smiling sweetly at him. "We can make new memories," she told him. "Together. What do you say? Please?"

Blair was almost speechless. "Miandra, I..." His mouth moved a few times, but no words came. The memories, they were just so strong. So painful. But then his gaze fell upon the small dragon that hovered at Miandra's side, his big yellow eyes gazing sadly at him.

"Dreamfinder... I wanna go home."

Blair's eyes seemed to be watering as though the glare of the setting sun were putting a strain on them, but Mia recognized it for what it truly was. She waited with baited breath for his reply. She knew he was filled with conflicting thoughts and turbulent emotions. She could see them flickering across his face. It was hard for him. Painful, even. But she just knew if she could convince him, the return would do him good. He could be happy there again, with her.

"All right," he said. "We'll all go home... together."

Smiling, Mia threw herself into his arms and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "You won't be disappointed! I just know it's going to be great! You, me, and Figment together in our own house! It'll be awesome! I promise."

Blair had to admit, seeing his daughter light up like this, it made his heart fly. Miandra's happiness was really all he wanted. If she didn't have a good head on her shoulders and a pure heart, she could easily walk all over him, if she wished it.

Figment did a little twirl in the air, pumping his small fist upwards. Then, he flew over to Snow and gave her a delighted hug. "Yaaay! We're going home! We're going home!"

"Well, I for one, can rest assured that you'll be taken care of now that Miandra's home, Uncle Blair," said Cindy with a warm smile.

Mia bid a fond farewell to the princesses as well as the dwarves. At Snow's insistence, Mia even gave Barsdaal a kiss on the cheek, to which he turned three shades of pink and lost all ability to speak.

"Stop teasing the poor man!" Cindy admonished them both.

Mia turned to Figment and Blair, grinning excitedly. "Whaddya' say we bibbidi-bobbidi-boo Figment back into a noble steed and take to the skies?"

"We'll do just that," said Blair. "Though we'll have to make a quick stop at the Institute along the way to pick up a few things."

He crouched down in front of Figment who was already standing on the ground, waiting for the transformation. "Figment, old friend... Making such a phenomenal transformation three times in one day... We've never done that before. Do you think you're up to the task?"

"We're finally going home! I'll do anything to get us there!"

Blair nodded. Concentrating on the Imaginergy flowing between them, a glow of iridescent light swirled around them and Figment made the transformation once more. Soon, Mia and Blair were sitting astride a large, majestic dragon and waving down at the princesses from above the castle walls. Excited to be going home, Figment shot off like a rocket towards the Imagination Institute, Mia and her father laughing along the way.


	16. Return to Tomorrow Hill

Blair held tightly to Figment with one arm while keeping a hand on his hat to make sure it didn't fly off into the sky. "Figment, _do_ slow down. Don't wear yourself out!"

Figment turned his majestic head to look over his shoulder at them. The dragon was smiling, his mouth motionless, as he communicated words in a voice only Blair and Mia could hear.

"I'm sorry, Dreamfinder! I'm just so excited! I like the Institute and all, but I can't wait to go home!"

"Figment! Watch where you're going! There's—"

Figment faced forward just in time to fly headfirst into a flock of geese. They all went scattering, except one.

WHACK!

There was an explosion of feathers and the dazed goose went into a downwards spiral.

"...birds," finished Blair. "Oh, Figment..."

"Poor goose didn't stand a chance," said Mia, watching its body disappear beneath the clouds.

When they arrived at the Imagination Institute, Figment returned to his normal form, coughing up goose feathers.

"Figment, that's only the fourth time you've taken that form. You really need to be more careful," Blair admonished.

Figment hacked up another clump of feathers. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was just really excited! But... whoo... all that really made me dizzy."

"I know what you mean, Figment," said Blair, bringing a hand to his head and wobbling on his way to the front entrance. "I feel it too, and I have my concerns about making that transformation for a fourth time tonight. Perhaps we need to find another way to the house."

Figment's fluttering seemed somewhat erratic, so Mia took him into her arms. "Poor Figgy," she cooed. "Want me to carry you?"

And so, cradling a very spoiled dragon in her arms, Mia followed her father into the Imagination Institute.

"How about you?" Mia asked Blair, who seemed rather dependent on the banister as they climbed the marble staircase. "Will _you_ be all right?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine, dear."

"Is it always like this, or is it just an age thing?"

Blair arched an eyebrow.

"Er, that is, I don't mean to imply that you're, you know..."

"I assure you, Miandra, it isn't an _age thing._ I may be your father, but I'm hardly _old_. In fact..." He smiled playfully at her, "...any longer on Earth, and you might've surpassed _me_ in age."

Mia flushed, grumbling incoherently. She didn't even want to entertain such a notion.

"Essentially, it takes quite a lot of Imaginergy to keep up that transformation with Figment," Blair explained. "And doing that four times in one day when we've only ever done it one other time, long ago... Well, it takes a lot out of the both of us. Perhaps I'll see if someone can give us a ride to the house tonight."

"Hey!" a voice called down the hall to them. "Might I borrow your ear for a second?"

Kevin Flynn was striding towards them with an irritated expression on his face. Mia narrowed her gaze. What right did _Flynn_ have to be irritated?

"Oh! Hello, Kevin. You seem somewhat agitated," said Blair. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah, man," said Flynn with a hint of sarcasm. "Everything is just peachy... Except that I just had a visit from this stiff suit from the AMPA. Guy came in lookin' for me and was breathin' all down my neck. Though, he seemed _real_ interested in..." Flynn's eyes flicked to Mia and the ghost of a smile graced his face. "... Mia, here."

"Yeah, well, I seem to be really popular these days," she said somewhat tetchily.

From his cradled position in Mia's arms, Figment glanced between his young mistress and Flynn. "What's the matter with you two? Did Flynn do something wrong, Miandra?"

Mia glared moodily at Flynn as she responded with the same phrase he'd spoken to her last night. "I guess we'll never know."

Flynn grimaced and gave a short little nod that seemed to say, _Touche._

Feeling uncomfortable with the current trajectory of back-and-forth, Blair cleared his throat. "Uh... Well, I _am_ sorry about that, Flynn," he said, addressing the situation at hand. "Agent Royo spoke to us earlier today as well. And with Miandra's return, he was merely trying to ensure that all was done safely. He's just looking out for everyone."

"Right... right... That's cool and all, but he put me behind in my work, man! I almost had the bugs worked out of the latest design for the Light Flyer when he barged in here!"

Mia resisted the temptation to ask about this alleged Light Flyer Flynn spoke of and opted instead to maintain a sour expression. After all, she was supposed to be mad at him.

"And look at this," he said, waving a slip of yellow paper in Blair's face. "A citation! For what? Being a hero? Besides, he's got nothing to worry about. Despite the trouble on the other side, I think I got our Miss Mercurial here safely. Right?"

Once more, Flynn directed a hopeful smile at Mia, who was painfully reminded that were it not for him, she might well be in Gaston's clutches right now, and who knows where that brute would've taken her? From the sound of it, directly to Maleficent.

"And I am forever grateful to you for that," she said with sincerity, but her expression remained stern. "Now if only you were that chivalrous in other aspects of your behavior."

Flynn looked as if he had a response for Mia, but one look at Professor Mercurial and that response was silenced. Blair sighed and shook his head. Whatever had happened between Mia and Flynn before still seemed to be weighing heavily on Mia.

"Now, look, both of you," he said, "Whatever is happening between you – which I _don't_ want to know the details of," he added quickly, "You're both adults. I'm sure forgiveness will be given if it is genuinely asked for."

"Yeah!" Figment piped up. "After all, to hair is human, but forgiveness is divine!"

"I think you mean _err,_ Figment," said Mia. "To _err_ is human."

Figment blinked up at her, confused. "To air? But I'm not a human and _I_ breathe air, too, Miandra."

"Never mind."

Mia ruminated on her father's words. Perhaps she _should_ forgive Flynn, but he had yet to ask for forgiveness. Then again, she wasn't sure if he ever would. He didn't seem to realize he'd done anything wrong, which just made her angrier. And yet... and yet she wanted to forgive him. Very much so. Despite everything, she liked Flynn, but her pride would not allow her to forgive him until he asked properly.

Flynn lowered his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. He desperately wanted to talk to Mia about what happened. He wanted to try to clear the air. But every time he'd seen her today, she was with her father. This was not a conversation he wanted to have in front of the Dreamfinder. But judging from her rough expression, it didn't seem like Mia wanted to be alone with him for _any_ amount of time, let alone long enough for a simple, genuine apology.

"Either way," said Blair, "I'm sorry your work got held back. I'm afraid Agent Royo of the AMPA has every right to do some investigating, especially after what happened earlier today."

"Earlier today? What happened earlier today? What's the big hubbub?"

"It's nothing you need worry about right now, Kevin. Perhaps a conversation best saved for later."

"Oookay..." said Flynn, still looking mightily confused. "Well, whatever it is, I really wish that Royo guy would leave me out of it. I'm a tech guy, man. I don't do that voodoo _you_ do."

"Ah," said Blair, smiling and raising a finger. "But you _did_ use the Rainbow Corridor, and technically, the power behind that is ancient Dizgaian magic."

"All right, granted. But how else am I supposed to be a liaison between worlds and keep up this part-time gig at Disney World, man?"

"You know very well you're supposed to let myself or Dr. Channing orchestrate your comings and goings, Kevin. It's for this very reason. He and I have a license to do so. You, I'm afraid, do not. Nevertheless, you rescued Miandra, and I don't regret a thing. But if you'd like Agent Royo to stop breathing down your neck, I'm afraid you'll have to work on our schedule from now on."

"I don't think my agenda will ever sync up with Dr. Channing's," Flynn grumbled. "Anyway, I guess I'd best leave you to it. Whatever 'it' is. See ya, around."

"Oh, Kevin. Wait a moment. I was wondering if perhaps you could do me a small, but very important favor."

"A favor? What'd you have in mind?"

Blair glanced at Miandra. The door was open. All he needed to do now was proceed. "Well, Miandra has convinced me that perhaps it would be in our best interest to return to the old house on Tomorrow Hill. I was wondering... If you don't have anything more pressing to do, could you give us a ride there?"

Mia's eyes went wide. She couldn't believe it! Why would Blair do that, knowing how she felt about Flynn at the moment?

"Hey, yeah. I'd be happy to, man! Sure thing."

"Excellent!" said Blair. "We're just heading back to my office to grab some things. We should be ready shortly."

"Cool. I'll meet you guys out in front in a few."

Blair steered Mia back to his office. When they were out of earshot, Mia shot him an annoyed look. "You could've asked _anybody._ Why'd you have to ask _him_?"

"I asked Kevin because whatever he's done to upset you – which, again, is none of my business – it's rather obvious to me that he wants to make it up to you. Besides, with all the troubles we seem to be encountering since your arrival, wouldn't it be better to have more friends than enemies?"

Mia huffed. "With friends like him..." she mumbled, but she couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

Blair stepped into his office, switching on the lights. "I guess I'm going to have to pack a few things. I don't really need _everything_. Just a few essentials to start." He tugged on the trigger book which opened the bookcase to his bathroom and closet space.

Mia stood idly by, her backpack on her back and her bags containing the day's purchases hanging off one arm, while still cradling a very spoiled dragon in the other. She watched Blair place his belongings into a small duffle bag which he'd summoned out of thin air.

"I suppose there isn't much here that _you_ need, is there, dear? You just have the one bag and what we bought today, I presume?"

"Yeah, this is pretty much everything. Sooner or later, though, I'm going to have to get more stuff."

"Of course. Perhaps next time we'll go somewhere with a few less... mirrors." Blair closed up the hidden bathroom annex and led Mia down the marble staircase and onto the front lawn of the Institute.

Mia sat on the edge of the leapfrog fountains with her bags in hand. A Ford Grand Torino swung around the side of the building and stopped in front of them. It was a honey-gold color and not exactly pristine, with a few rust spots here and there. But it seemed to run smoothly, and much like all the cars Mia had seen on the roads of Main Street, it didn't seem to put out much exhaust at all.

The driver's side door opened and Flynn stepped out. "Your chariot awaits," he said with a flourish.

"Are there only old cars in Cerenopia, or is this just a Kevin Flynn nostalgia thing?" That had sounded meaner than Mia had intended, so she quickly added, "I mean, it's... it's nice and all."

"Well, truth be told," said Flynn, popping the trunk, "Here in Dizgaia, cars haven't really been around all that long."

Blair nodded as he tossed his dufflebag into the trunk. "This is true. In fact, before we made contact with Earth, we didn't even have them. You'll find, dear, that while Earth's culture has taken many stories, tales, and fables from Dizgaia, we've taken much from Earth in return."

"Spot on, Prof. All the cars _are_ Dizgaian-built, but it's all based on Earth schematics," explained Flynn. "You're not gonna find car dealerships around here, though. Anyone who owns a car likely got it custom built."

"Oh," said Mia, depositing her stuff in the trunk. "I didn't realize. I suppose that makes sense."

Just as she opened the passenger-side door of the two-door car, Blair slipped in ahead of her, claiming the backseat. Smiling, he pulled the front passenger seat into position after him forcing Mia to sit up front beside Flynn.

Mia pursed her lips and shot him an annoyed glare. "Gee, thanks a lot," she hissed.

Blair had to admit, being a meddlesome father could be fun. Having no other choice, Mia sat in the front passenger seat beside Flynn, slamming the door shut behind her.

"What powers these cars anyway?" she asked as they took off down the road. "Is it some sort of clean energy source? Solar? Wind?"

"It's all clean, man. I don't know if your dad has told you yet, but that's where most of the electricity in Dizgaia comes from – clean sources. We've got hydro, wind, solar, and then, of course, there's your dad's discovery – Imaginergy."

Mia glanced at her father in the backseat. "Imaginergy... You've used that word before. That's your imagination power, right? How is it that the city can be powered by that when you're the only one who can do it? Are you the sole conduit of that power? Wouldn't that be very draining? Moreover, wouldn't that be impossible?"

"Now, hold on, dear," said Blair with a chuckle. "Before you go picturing me as some sort of One-Man Power Plant, allow me to clarify. Yes, Imaginergy is a power source that I discovered. Essentially, it is the power of dreams. Believe it or not, when people dream, their minds put forth vast amounts of energy. That energy, under normal circumstances, is simply wasted with no way to truly harness it. That's where I came in."

Mia turned halfway around in her seat to listen.

"As a young man, I longed to find a limitless power source for our society. That's when I invented a machine that could harness the power of the mind. The Mesmonic Converter. I discovered that we could use the power of dreams via the Mesmonic Converter as a means to power lights, machines, vehicles, et cetera. It truly is the cleanest form of energy there is. Granted, when I tested the prototype on myself, that's when I first became—"

"The Dreamfinder!" exclaimed Figment, grinning and throwing his arms into the air.

"That's right, Figment," said Blair, giving the dragon's head an affectionate pat.

"So how does this mes... mesmo... mesmonic converter work?" asked Mia. "How do you get clean energy from it?"

Flynn smiled as he continuously stole glances at Mia, appreciating the look of awe on her face. Such expressions made her look really cute, but it also made her look young – like the child who'd always been missing from Blair's life. If only Flynn could capture the girl's fascination like her father could. She was shaping up to be a real daddy's girl.

"Well, the final version is a machine that is built into a person's bed," said Blair. "Usually at the headboard. When the person falls asleep and begins to dream, the energy put out by the dreamer's mind is absorbed into the machine. Then the dreams, be they good _or_ bad, are converted into usable energy, almost akin to electricity, and is transferred into the house's personal generator. Thus, the products of the imagination become energy. Imaginergy! You see?"

"Yeah, and everyone who owns a custom-built car that runs on Imaginergy also has a charging port that's synced up with their house's power grid, so they can charge their car at home. Even an old looking fella like this runs on dream power," said Flynn, patting the steering wheel.

"Wow! That's utterly amazing!" Mia remarked. "If only Earth could implement something like that. Though, I'm not sure that sort of magitech is possible there. And even if it _was_ possible, there are certain groups of people on Earth who would never allow it. Not enough money in it." Mia turned back in her seat and slouched. "Man... Clean energy? This world really _is_ a utopia. I can't believe Mom took me away from here."

And yet, as she said this, she could hear the words of the March Hare echoing in her head.

_Gotta wrap up the present for Mistress Maleficent! It's her Unbirthday today, after all!_

Mia suppressed a shiver. Perhaps her mother wasn't entirely wrong to—

_Don't even think it, Miandra,_ she chastised herself. _No matter the dangers, this is still a far better world than Earth, and there are certainly more than enough people with the firepower to protect you. And now that the princesses know, even more safeguards will be put in place._

Blair patted Mia's shoulder reassuringly. "It's all right, Miandra. Really. Besides, if one day our goals become reality, we'll be sharing much more with Earth than simply stories."

"I can only hope you're right," said Mia. "But I don't know. With the current social and political climate on Earth, you might be trying to merge yourself with the very antithesis of a utopia."

Blair wasn't about to discuss his thoughts on Earth's current state of affairs, as it was rather discouraging. Admittedly, it had set back their utopia plans quite a bit. He could only hope that the world in which Mia was raised would finally get its act together to where it was truly ready to become a utopia.

Mia was quiet for a long time, consumed by melancholy thoughts until the Grand Torino proceeded up a rarely traveled dirt road that climbed a hillside overlooking the metropolis. As they passed an old, rickety road sign which read, _Tomorrow Hill_ , Mia sat up straighter in her seat. The dirt road soon joined up with a long, winding driveway of red brick. Flynn steered the car along this path until they reached the crest of the hill where the Mercurial residence awaited them.

It was a large house that seemed to have taken inspiration from rustic western American architecture combined with something akin to Japanese. While certainly no mansion, the house was generous in size, but it looked lonely and abandoned. The car had barely rolled to a complete stop before Mia threw open the door and leapt out. She ran up the front walk and skidded to a halt in front of the porch. Her heart was pounding, her breathing heavy as she gazed up at the house in silent wonder. Blair and Figment soon joined her.

"So this is it," she murmured, not taking her eyes off the house. "This was my home."

"You mean it _is_ your home, Miandra!" said Figment, hugging her tightly. "Welcome home!"

Mia snuggled him back and grinned up at her father. Blair didn't seem quite as excited as she was. Mia saw conflicting emotions flicker across his face. Though she empathized, she couldn't hide her excitement. Besides, she was certain he'd feel more comfortable in time. Perhaps her own attitude would rub off on him.

"Come on!" she said.

Blair stumbled forward as Miandra grabbed him and dragged him towards the door, their belongings, for the moment, forgotten.

"Oh, you still have the key, don't you?"

"Well, actually, there _is_ no key."

Removing one of his gloves, Blair reached out a hand and brushed dirt and debris off of a panel next to the door that Mia hadn't previously noticed. At his touch, a screen lit up and a computer-generated image of little blue robot greeted them.

"I'm SMRT-1," it said in a cute little voice, "the computer robot."

Mia chuckled and cast a sideways glance at her father. "The computer robot? A bit redundant, isn't it?"

"It's kind of an old system," Blair admitted.

"Are you visitor or resident?" the robot asked, blinking its large eyes which were like the shutters on an old camera.

Blair was about to reply, but stopped and motioned Mia over to the panel, smiling. "Go on. Answer him, Miandra."

Hesitantly, Mia approached the screen. She knew what she must answer, and suddenly, she was finding it rather difficult to speak. Swallowing back a tearful emotion that wished to clog her throat, she choked out, "R-Resident."

"Look here, please." Suddenly, SMRT-1 got close up with the screen so all that was visible were his shutter-like eyes.

"Go ahead," said Blair, giving Mia a gentle nudge. "Look into his eyes. Like a staring contest."

"Sure," said Mia. "That's not creepy at all." Nevertheless, she did as she was told.

"Let's see..." said SMRT-1.

For a brief moment, Mia stared into his eyes and a retinal scan was done. The screen gave an affirmative beep. Mia heard the clicking sound of the door's locking mechanism turning back.

"Confirmed. Welcome home, Miandra."

Mia gazed wide-eyed at her father. "It... It recognized me..." she said, her voice tremulous.

"Of course. SMRT-1 has your eyes on file. He always has. I made sure to have him scan and recognize your eyes shortly after you were born. You may be older, but your eyes haven't changed a bit."

Mia nodded, trying to suppress the emotions that wanted to rear their powerful head. Somehow, this just made it all the more real for her. She really _was_ born of this world. This really _did_ used to be her home.

Blair turned the knob and opened the door. With an emotional wavering in his voice, he repeated, "Welcome home, Miandra."

Swallowing, Mia stepped over the threshold and found herself in a large parlor, somehow both modern and bucolic. Already, she could see that it was a positively beautiful house. It had a smooth, polished, reddish-brown wood interior with big windows, allowing for plenty of natural lighting. The rustic design reminded Mia of a fancy cabin, but despite its remote location, the house was far too large to be a mere cabin in the woods.

Mia ventured from the parlor into the sitting room. The furniture was all still there – an arm chair, a couch, a wooden rocking chair, and even an oriental-looking area rug.

"Wow," she breathed. "It's not even in bad shape. Just super dusty."

"Yeah, yeah! After a good cleaning, this place will be ship-shape!" Figment exclaimed joyfully. "It is so _good_ to be home!"

Blair hesitated in the doorway. His eyes moved slowly about the place, seeing all of the old furnishings, appliances, and decorations. They were all still here, as though the Mercurial family had never left but had simply forgotten to do some serious cleaning. This was starting to become too much for him.

Mia saw two sets of stairs, one leading to a basement, and the other to a second floor. But it was the gorgeous staircase with the wooden banister curling its way upstairs that caught her attention. This must surely be the way to the bedrooms. Mia darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time as she called down to Blair.

"Come on, Dad!"

Blair's breath hitched in his throat. In her excitement, Mia had called to him in a way she hadn't yet referred to him since her return.

_Dad_.

She'd called him _Dad_.

Blair hastily wiped at his eyes.

"Wait up, Miandra!" called Figment. "C'mon, Dreamfinder!"

Smiling, Blair followed. From the stairs, he could hear Miandra racing through the hallway and throwing open doors. Those sounds hearkened back to another time; a time that never happened. An alternate time.

In his mind's eye, Blair could see Miandra as a little girl, the one he never got the chance to know. In his imagination, the sounds of a child's laughter echoed throughout the house as a young Miandra ran about with Figment, and Blair gave chase, finally catching her and scooping her into his arms and tickling her. But when Blair stepped onto the second floor, the sight which greeted him, instead, was his 19-year-old daughter; all grown up, but no less loved for it. And while she may not look it, in this moment she certainly acted every bit the child she'd once been on Earth, exploring new, uncharted territory with all the excitement of a five-year-old.

All the doors on the second floor now stood open with the exception of one; a door at the end of the hallway. Mia stopped in front of it, her excited footsteps coming to a halt. A pervasive silence filled the house as her hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitating. She knew to whom this room belonged, and she was suddenly too overwhelmed to proceed. She felt Blair's hand entwine with hers. She glanced at him and he gave her a nod. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

The room inside was dark. Thick, black curtains had been drawn over the window. It was as though someone had died in this room and it had been closed off, the curtains like a funeral shroud. Hesitantly, Blair followed Miandra inside. If she wasn't with him, he never would have been able to enter it. It looked just the same as it did before the fateful night that a pair of dragons battled over Tomorrow Hill. The reconstruction had been flawless, and yet, the room wasn't used much longer after that night.

Mia could see just enough to make her way to the window. She pulled open the curtains, blinking into the blood red sunlight as it filtered in through the dusty panes. Mustering her courage, she turned away from the window to gaze about the room. While the other upstairs bedrooms were of a similar rustic design to the rest of the house, the walls of this room were painted a light blue with white cloud patterns to resemble the sky. The pattern continued onto the ceiling. The light fixture above was shaped like a large sun. Mia had no doubt that when electricity ran through the house, this light gave off a warm, orange glow.

In the corner was a nightstand with a small lamp and a dusty baby monitor beside it. In another corner of the room was a changing table, and in the other, a chest of drawers. Mia walked over to it, sliding her fingers along the smooth wood. They came away with a layer of dust. She opened one of the drawers. Pink onesies, cute little dresses, and a plethora of what looked like baby doll clothes lay neatly folded inside. But Mia knew these did not belong to any doll.

Swallowing, she closed the drawer and turned to the center of the room where the cradle sat. Mia approached it as though in a dream. The most nebulous of memories seemed to want her to remember it. The crib was made of beautiful, smooth, polished wood. Handmade, by the looks of it. For seemingly no reason at all, Mia was absolutely certain that this had been gifted to the Mercurial family by the dwarves.

A mobile hung over the crib. Clouds, stars, a moon, and little purple dragons not so unlike Figment hung from it. When Mia reached out and touched it, it began to rotate, giving off a weak little tinkle, showing that it still had some life in it. Mia had tried so very hard to maintain composure, but somehow, stupidly, this was her undoing. She let out a choked sob and her hands gripped the railing of the crib for stability as she unleashed a torrent of tears.

Soon, Blair was at her side, wrapping his arms around her and holding her in a protective, fatherly embrace. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, wetting his beard. Mia turned in towards him, burying her face in his chest as she cried softly against him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "So sorry."

Mia did not know if she was apologizing for crying or apologizing for the pain that losing her and her mother must have caused him. Maybe a bit of both. Nonetheless, they were both overcome with emotion as they embraced. Even Figment seemed to understand the significance of the moment, and had the presence of mind to sit silently, perched on the edge of the crib, and let father and daughter have their cry.

Blair pressed his lips against Miandra's head. "It's alright, dearest," he said softly. "It's alright. There's no need to apologize. You've done nothing wrong. What's done is done. We cannot change the past, but you're here now – home at last – and we can finally move on. If we're going to live under this roof, let's do the best we can to be a family again."

The sound of footsteps and the clearing of a throat brought their gaze to the doorway. "Uh, hey... Sorry to interrupt a tender moment, but I wasn't sure where you wanted all your stuff, so I just set them down in the parlor."

Flushing, Mia turned away, putting her back to Flynn as she quickly wiped at her eyes. Flynn thought it was cute how she didn't want him to see her cry, but he felt sorry to see her so overwhelmed with sorrow. Furthermore, it seemed as though she was still determined to stay mad at him, and now certainly wasn't a good time to try and fix things. She was already dealing with a lot as it was.

"That's perfectly fine, Kevin. I'm sure we can handle it from here," said Blair with a kind smile.

"Yeah, yeah! After all, I don't think Miandra will be able to fit in her crib anymore," said Figment.

"I can sleep on the couch downstairs for now," said Mia.

"We'll see about getting you a proper bed, Miandra," said Blair. "But I'm afraid it's too late to do so tonight."

"This is a really nice pad, man," said Flynn, gazing around. "All the dust aside, of course."

"Yeah! You bet it is!" said Figment. "I'm so happy to be back!"

Blair offered Flynn an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Kevin. I suppose in our excitement, we forgot to thank you for the ride."

"Please, it's no biggie. I was happy to do it. Plus, I finally got to have a look around your house." His eyes moved to Mia. "It's beautiful," he said.

"It _is_ beautiful," Mia agreed, though she refused to acknowledge Flynn with her eyes. "But it'll need a major cleaning."

She walked to the doorway, pausing briefly beside Flynn but still refusing to look at him. 

"Thanks for the ride," she mumbled, then brushed past him. "I'm gonna explore more of the house," she called from the hallway. This seemed to be her way of saying that she was done dealing with Flynn for the day.

"Wait up, Miandra!" called Figment as he flew past Flynn out the door.

Flynn's shoulders slumped and he sighed as Mia's footsteps receded down the stairs, leaving him alone with her father. Blair crossed his arms and tilted his head as he gazed sternly at Flynn.

"Kevin, perhaps I should be playing the concerned father here. After all, you've clearly done something to make Miandra upset with you."

Flynn's face seemed to pale. "Uhh, yeah, look..."

"I don't want to know, Kevin," Blair said quickly; although from Miandra's words earlier that morning, he had more than an inkling. "As long as you didn't harm her, I have to accept that she is an adult and can make her own decisions. Just... Promise me you'll apologize to her, Flynn."

"I want to, Blair. I do. Trust me. I've just been looking for the right moment."

"I'm glad to hear that, Kevin. Though, it probably won't be tonight, from the looks of it, I'm afraid." Blair's stern expression slipped away and he placed a fatherly hand on Flynn's shoulder. "Thank you, Kevin. Thank you for rescuing her, and thank you for bringing us home."

"Don't mention it, man," Flynn replied with a nervous smile. "I'll, uh... I'll see you at work."

Flynn did not see Mia as he ventured back downstairs and out the front door, but he could hear her pealing laughter from outside as he stood beside his car. Her joyful exclamations brought a smile to his face. Mia was so excited about starting her new life. Flynn only hoped that he could be a part of it.

~~~

Mia explored the basement and the yard. She was pleased to see they owned a good deal of land here on Tomorrow Hill, perhaps nearly two acres. Behind the house there was what once must have been quite the garden. Nothing compared to Cindy and Snow's, of course, but in its prime, it must have been lovely. Now it was overgrown and in serious need of a good weeding. Even the garden trellis was looking rather formidable beneath a thick overgrowth of ivy and kudzu. Mia was already formulating ideas for home improvements.

When she was finished exploring, Mia helped Blair dust off the living room furniture as best they could. Then, after procuring as many candles as they could find, Mia helped him set them about the house and light them so they'd have light by which to see. It would take a while to get the electricity up and running, but Blair assured her that after a good night's sleep, they'd have enough power to light the whole city if necessary.

"Why not just use your imagination to light the house now?" Mia teased.

"Oh, I suppose I _could,_ dear, but I'm rather drained at the moment. It'll take a full belly and a good night's sleep before I'm ready to power the entire house, I'm afraid."

As there was no food in the house, they ordered delivery from Tiana's Palace. They placed the call and waited eagerly with rumbling tummies. Mia hoped it was either Naveen or Tiana herself who made the delivery. She was eager to see them again.

When the doorbell rang, Mia leapt up to get it. She threw open the door and grinned up at the man who stood on the threshold.

"Hey, Naveen!"

The prince, or _working man,_ as he'd put it, smiled down at her. "When the order came in, I took one look at the address and I thought, 'Nah, this cannot be right.' But I drove out here and sure enough... Ashidanza, there's candlelight aglow in the windows and people are home!"

Blair joined Mia at the door, tipping his hat to Naveen. "Good evening, Naveen. I trust you're doing well?"

"Now that I see you've all come home, better than ever!" His gaze returned to Mia and he offered her a handsome grin. "So, what brings you back to the old homestead? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Ever since you mentioned that we used to live in the house on Tomorrow Hill, I sorta got it into my head that we should return. After all, it's not good for him to be living in his office," she said, jerking her head towards Blair. "So, I talked him into it. In a way, it's thanks to you, Naveen."

"Well, I'm happy that I could do whatever it is that I did to see the Mercurial family back home. It certainly makes it easier to deliver food without having to go all the way into Epcot."

Figment flew over, smacking his lips. "Mmm! Gumbo two nights in a row! I've died and gone to dragon heaven!" He took the take-out bags from Naveen and carried them over to the dining room table.

"Would you like to come in for a bit, Naveen, or do you have more deliveries to make?" asked Mia.

"Sadly, my time is not to be my own tonight. I've got more deliveries to run. But I am certainly glad to see that the house on Tomorrow Hill is aglow again. I suppose as a housewarming gift, I _could_ give you your order on -the-house..."

Blair arched an eyebrow, waiting for that tell-tale smirk to appear at the corner of Naveen's mouth. Sure enough, there it was.

"But I won't," said Naveen. "Twenty-four Cerenis please."

"Still up to the same old tricks, eh, Naveen?" said Blair, taking out his wallet and paying the man.

"What can I say?" said Naveen with a shrug. "A man's gotta make money, right?"

"Teasing a man with a hearty appetite," said Blair. "Shame on you, Naveen."

"Eh, it's not like you've ever fallen for it," said Naveen, pocketing the money, as well as a tip. "Thank you, good sir. And might I say again – Welcome back." With that, he spun around and glanced back only to wave his cap at Miandra. "Abinaza, Miandra!"

"Abinaza, Naveen!" Mia called from the porch. "Tell Tiana I said hi!"

Moments later, the little Mercurial family were seated at the dining room table and digging into Round Two of Tiana's House Gumbo.

"So," said Mia with her mouth full and hardly looking up from her supper. "As good as this is, we can't keep ordering take-out. We'll need groceries. So, I was thinking... You have to go to work tomorrow, right? Maybe if you left me a bit of money, I could go into town and pick up some supplies. But the thing is, we're a bit of a ways away from town proper, aren't we?"

"Oh. Yes," said Blair. "I suppose that _is_ something of a situation, isn't it?"

"I know you can ride Figment to the Institute, if you have to, but is there any way for me to get into town?"

"Oh, oh!" cried Figment. "What about the car, Dreamfinder? I bet after a good night's sleep with the mesmonic converter running, it could be all powered up and raring to go by morning!"

"Ah," said Mia, "So we _do_ have a car."

"Oh yes, the car!" Blair exclaimed, bopping the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Yes, it completely slipped my mind." After slurping another spoonful of gumbo, Blair pointed his spoon vaguely in the direction of the garage. "In the garage, next to my old workshop. Now, before you get too excited, it's nothing fancy. It resembles a model out of Earth's early 1900s." He arched an eyebrow as a smile came to his face. "Want to see it?"

When they had finished eating, Blair led Mia to the garage, pulling a large, black tarp off a lone vehicle. It was a blue 1904 White Type E Steam Car with leather armchair-like seats, a canopy, rear entry, and a pair of panniers on either side.

"It's a reproduction of Earth's 1904 model. Normally it would be a manual transmission, but it's got some upgrades to keep with the times, of course. And, naturally, it runs purely on Imaginergy." Blair rubbed the back of his neck a bit nervously. "Though I'm sure a young Earth girl like you finds this is horribly antiquated."

But such concerns were quickly put to rest as Mia ran a hand along it, all smiles. "It's old fashioned but brilliant, just like the man who owns it."

Her father blushed fiercely.

"I feel like I need a steampunk get-up to drive this thing," she said. "Speaking of which, where do you do your shopping?"

" _My_ shopping? Uh, well, I—"

"Never mind, never mind," she said laughing. "Anyway, this baby's great! And you'll really let me drive it into town tomorrow?"

"Well," said Blair, "I must admit I'm a touch concerned about pushing Figment too hard with that transformation, but if he feels he has it in him to do it just for tomorrow morning, then perhaps we can get a ride home with someone in the evening."

"You've bet I got it in me!" said Figment, puffing out his chest. "Especially after a good night's sleep!"

"That settles it, then," said Blair. "In that case, I suppose I can leave the car with you, dear." He hesitated, his eyes narrowing questioningly. "You _can_ drive, can't you? I didn't think to inquire as to whether you had a driver's license."

"Of course! I wouldn't have asked to drive your car if I didn't. What do you take me for, a rebellious teenager?" she asked, nudging him playfully in the ribs.

Blair arched an eyebrow with a simple, "Hmm."

Mia _was_ , in fact, a teenager. As for rebellious, he'd just have to wait and see. He inspected the charging station, making sure the car was hooked up. Tonight, the Mercurial house was going to get recharged and filled to the brim with Imaginergy, and the car could then be trusted to take its driver into town and back with no problem.

After giving the car a quick once-over to make sure everything was in working order, Blair straightened up and stretched, giving his joints a good pop.

"Well, then. I suppose that's that."

His gaze moved to a large door on the other side of the garage. Beside the door was a panel similar to the one at the front door.

"I suppose I'll have to take a look in there sometime soon. Make sure it isn't a disaster."

"Oh yeah!" said Figment. "The old workshop!"

"Must be some important stuff in there to warrant its own security panel," said Mia.

Figment nodded. "Oh yes! The original mesmonic converter prototype is in there. Not to mention the Dream Machine!"

"You mean the dirigible? _That's_ in there? But how could it possibly fit?"

"With the power of imag—"

Mia grabbed Figment by the snout, closing his mouth. "Forget I asked. But why is it called _The Dream Machine_?"

Undeterred, Figment explained. "The dirigible has this huge vacuum on the front and a bag in the back that collects dreams! But that was way back in the day, before you and I were born, Miandra," he said, leading the way back into the house with a fully engaged Mia following. "After you were born, Dreamfinder really only used it for transportation. At least until..." Figment trailed off, casting a pitying glance at Blair. "Never mind," he said quickly. "But now that you're back, Miandra, I'm sure Dreamfinder will find all sorts of inspiration to get to work on his old inventions again!"

Mia glanced over her shoulder at her father and gave him a kind smile. "I certainly hope so. I want to see them!"

Blair smiled proudly. Encouragement from his daughter was worth gold to him. And who knew? Perhaps this return home would give him time to work on his more personal projects again, while also giving him the chance to experience life as the father he'd always wanted to be but never had the chance.

"So how exactly does the Dream Machine collect dreams?" Mia asked.

"Well," said Figment, "You know how dreams just kinda float around through the air, right?"

"Um... right..."

"The vacuum on the Dream Machine sucks them up and spits them into the bag. Then we take the bag and..."

Their conversation faded away as Mia and Figment entered the house and Blair hung behind. He stood out on the lawn gazing up at the twinkling stars in the sky. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath.

_I'm home._

~~~

It was getting late, and the time for sleep was finally upon them. Until she got a proper bed, Mia was content to sleep on the couch in the living room. She supposed she could've asked Blair to just imagine up a bed for her, but she was quickly learning that not only could it be draining if over-used, but Blair also had a philosophy about abusing those powers. So, Mia assured him that she'd be more than comfortable on the couch.

After finding her a pillow and some blankets from a linen closet and shaking them out, Blair set the couch up for Mia to sleep comfortably. Figment, who was still taking his charge as her guardian very seriously, insisted upon sleeping with her. Blair fluffed Mia's pillow and tucked her beneath the covers. Mia might have otherwise protested such babying, but instead she allowed it. Blair needed this. He'd never gotten to do such things before, when he had every right to.

"Good night, dearest," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Sweet dreams," Mia echoed back.

Blair paused on the stairs, smiling down at her. "Always."

With Miandra and Figment on the couch in the den, Blair took respite in the master bedroom. It was the first time in many years since he last stepped foot in this room, much less considered sleeping in it. He closed the door and leaned with his back against it, drawing slow, ragged breaths. This was the room that he and Beverly had once shared – sleeping, dreaming, talking, laughing, making love... There were so many memories in this one room. This wasn't going to be easy.

He checked the dresser drawers for sleeping apparel, hoping that some of his old clothes still fit. As he rummaged through the drawers, his heart ached. Many of Beverly's clothes were still here, too.

_I truly did just abandon this place, didn't I?_

He left _so_ much behind without even considering boxing it up or getting rid of it. Much like the rest of the house, it almost seemed like he'd never moved out, but had merely forgotten to clean the place.

Blair chose a simple undershirt and a pair of cozy, silk blue pajama pants. They were a bit snugger than he remembered, but they would do. When he settled into bed, he lay for the longest time, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, cast by the silver light of the full moon streaming in through the windows.

Sleep was not coming easily. Alone in this room, it almost felt like a tomb. A relic of the past which once housed warmth and life now felt cold and empty. It was a feeling he'd experienced long ago, which made him decide to leave. Now, it was all rushing back to him.

Downstairs, Mia couldn't sleep either, though for an entirely different reason.

"I'm just too excited, Figment," she said. "How could I possibly sleep after everything that's happened today? I'm wide awake and my mind's running a hundred miles a minute."

"Well," said Figment, "Whenever Dreamfinder can't sleep, he likes to read a book before bed." 

He led her to a huge bookshelf with rows upon rows of thick, leather-bound books that hadn't seen the light of day in a very long time. Mia blew dust from the spines of the books and inspected them. They were not the academic tomes like the ones Blair kept in his office.

"I guess this is where he keeps his more recreational reads," she said. "Huh. It looks like most of these are mysteries."

"Yep! Dreamfinder loves mystery stories," said Figment. "Especially murder mysteries."

"Wow," said Mia. "That seems... surprisingly dark for him." Nonetheless, she grabbed the first one that caught her eyes and settled down onto the couch to read it.

"Could you read it aloud, Miandra?" asked Figment, snuggling up under her arm. "I want to hear."

"Okay," said Mia. "But I'll have to read quietly. We don't want to wake Blair."

There was something rather romantic and idyllic about reading by candlelight in a house with such old-world charm as this. Mia didn't once think about her phone, which was still in her backpack, likely on its last leg of battery power. In fact, she'd barely thought about it since arriving. Dizgaia was stimulating in a way that a smart phone app or perusing social media could never be. And now, it was the simple pleasure of reading by firelight that she found so appealing.

Thus, Mia read late into the night until she was too tired to read more. She closed the book and set it aside. Then, she blew out the already-dwindling candle, plunging the room into darkness. But perhaps reading a murder mystery right before bed was a bad idea, for Mia was suddenly very much aware of every shadow, every creak, and every strangely-shaped object inside the house.

"Where's that light coming from?" she asked rather suddenly, catching sight of a twinkling gleam across the room.

"That's just the moonlight reflecting off the mirror in the parlor," said Figment.

" _Mirror?_ " said Mia, gulping nervously. "Figment, you don't suppose Blair's forgotten to update his mirror protection, do you?"

"I doubt it," Figment replied. "That would be unusually irresponsible of him."

"Still," said Mia, "It's been a while since he's been home, hasn't it?"

She rose from the couch and tossed one of the spare blankets over the mirror, hiding it from view, before settling back down onto the couch.

"That's better."

Mia closed her eyes and was just starting to drift off when Figment tensed beside her.

"M-Miandra... D-Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" she asked sleepily.

"A creak."

Mia listened. For a moment, she heard nothing. Then, she caught a faint creaking sound from somewhere in the house, like a floorboard creaking underfoot.

"See?" said Figment tremulously.

"It's probably just the house settling, Figment."

Figment's wide yellow eyes blinked up at her in the darkness. "Settling into _what_?"

Mia and Figment exchanged glances. Suddenly, they were up off the couch and running up the stairs.

A rapid knocking on Blair's bedroom door jolted him from his dark and dreary reveries. He quickly rose from the bed, taking a candle with him. He opened the door to find Miandra and Figment looking very unnerved.

"What?" he asked, glancing between the two. "What is it?"

"Can we sleep with you?" they both asked in sync.

"Oh? Well, I—"

They didn't wait for a response as they rushed past him and hopped into his bed, pulling the covers up to their chins. Blair stared at them in disbelief before a warm smile came to his face. Chuckling, he closed the door and slipped into bed beside them. There they were, quite the trio -- Blair on one side of the bed and Mia on the other with their small dragon companion nestled between them.

"Good night, you too," he said, still chuckling.

"G-Good night."

"G'night."

He blew out the light and closed his eyes, a smile on his face. With his daughter and her dragon guardian close by, Blarion Mercurial would sleep the contented sleep of the happiest father in Dizgaia.


	17. Whistle While You Work

Blair was the first to awaken the next morning. Mia was lying on her stomach with her head turned to the side. Her arm hung off the bed as she snored in a very unladylike manner. Figment lay on his back with his arms and legs spread out to four corners, as though he were doing his best impression of a starfish. His mouth was agape with his tongue lolling out.

The Dreamfinder's boisterous laugh awakened both his sleeping companions. The confused expressions on their faces only made him laugh harder. After dressing for the day, the three soon realized, with bellies grumbling for breakfast, that they still had nothing in the way food.

"Well, I suppose Figment and I could get something to eat at the Institute's cafeteria, but then what will you do, dear?"

"Is Tiana's open for breakfast?" Mia asked.

"I do believe so, yes. They have a little café-style venue during the mornings."

"Then if you just leave me a bit of extra money, I can get breakfast there when I go into town to get groceries."

Blair gave Mia what she assumed was a generous amount of money – though she still hadn't quite learned how currency worked in this world – before giving her a kiss on the forehead and bidding her farewell.

"Okay. See you tonight!" she called as he mounted Figment and took off for the Institute.

Mia drove the steam car into town. It wasn't very fast, but it ran deceptively smoothly. The controls were very old fashioned, but she had a crash course in driving it – quite literally, as at one point she had a little fender bender with a tree. But by the time she descended Tomorrow Hill and reached town proper, she'd gotten the hang of it.

The first stop was Tiana's Palace. For breakfast, the restaurant was a lot calmer. Today things were slow enough that Tiana handed the maintenance over to Naveen and her mother so she could sit and chat with Mia while she ate.

"This place is positively jumpin' at night, but in the mornings it's slow and quiet. It's nice to stop and take a bit of a breather," said Tiana over a cup of coffee.

"I like it," said Mia. "You know, you should make use of the veranda during the slower morning hours, Tiana."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea! We could set up a sort of al fresco brunch. People would enjoy eating outside on a beautiful day like this. You sure you don't want a job here, honey? You could make for a good consultant."

"I don't know," said Mia, laughing. "I think taking care of my father is gonna be a full-time job for a while."

"I don't doubt it. Naveen tells me you and the professor have moved back into your old house. I'm so happy to hear it. How are you liking it? Do you need anything at all? Anything we can help with?"

"I'm sure we'll manage. At the moment, I'm on a mission to stock the house with some groceries. Know of any good places?"

Tiana recommended a local market and gave Mia directions on how to get there. After procuring enough groceries to get them through the week, Mia headed back to Tomorrow Hill. With the refrigerator now fully stocked, it was time to tackle the next big task – cleaning the house.

Sadly, Mia had no clothes she considered expendable when it came to such a filthy chore, but she found an apron in a kitchen drawer and tied it around her neck and waist. Hopefully, this would at least keep the bulk of the dust and grime from dirtying her clothes. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, it was down to business.

_Hoo boy_ , thought Mia as she started wiping down the kitchen counters. _This is gonna be a lot of work for just little ol' me._

She decided what she needed right now was some good tunes to make the otherwise daunting task more enjoyable. She found her phone in her backpack. It was still juiced. The battery wasn't too low, as she'd not used it since Disney World. Though she supposed after listening through her music library, it may very well die.

Mia wondered if Imaginergy could help power her phone back up. Though there may not be much point in it, for she had no bars. The signal was nonexistent here. This was about what she'd expected. She was in an alternate dimension, after all. Making calls or sending texts to Earth from Dizgaia would not be possible. Mia had a feeling that you'd need something a lot stronger than a smartphone to accomplish such a thing.

_Oh well,_ she thought. _Who needs a smartphone in a world like Dizgaia?_

If an Earth girl couldn't derive enough enjoyment from a magical fairytale world and all it had to offer without the aid of a smartphone, then she would have truly lost all faith in humanity. Still, a bit of music would be nice.

Mia propped her phone up against a dusty cookie jar and allowed the music to play as she began her work. She'd not made much headway when she heard a car pulling up the driveway followed by a knock on the door. Curious, Mia answered it. On her front porch stood none other than Princess Cindy and Princess Snow, and behind them a shiny blue 1960 Chrysler convertible. So, this was the royal coach. Not what she would have expected.

"Hey," the princesses greeted, laughing at the befuddled expression on Mia's face.

"Uh, hey. What are you two doing here?" Flushing, for she did not mean to sound rude, Mia amended. "I mean, I wasn't expecting your highnesses."

"Miandra, every time you call us 'your highness,' I'm going to pinch you," said Snow.

"Sorry," said Mia, blushing again.

"We're friends, Miandra. Don't do us the disservice of being so formal."

"Yes, your high... er... yes, Snow. Sorry."

"As for why we're here," said Cindy, "A little birdie told us you might need some help tidying up the house."

"Was it a literal bird?"

This sent the princesses into hysterics. It took a solid 30 seconds before Cindy and Snow were able to stop laughing long enough to reply.

"Oh, Miandra, you're so cute!" Cindy laughed.

"Too cute," added Snow.

Cindy shook her head and sighed. "Sir Walter Disney had such strange notions of femininity."

" _Sir_ Walter Disney?" asked Mia.

"Oh yes," said Cindy. "We knighted him, of course."

"Of course," said Mia, musingly.

"I mean, we didn't always agree with his interpretation of our personal stories," said Cindy, "But those were different times on Earth back then. He had to speak to everyone there in a language they'd understand."

"People expected women – and princesses, especially – to be beautiful, demure, domestic..."

"And able to talk to cute little animals."

"And keep house."

"And clean."

"Speaking of which... We've come to help you clean."

It was only now that Mia realized the sort of clothes they were wearing. Snow wore a pair of short denim overalls that were spattered with paint, and Cindy wore a button-down denim blouse with three-quarters length sleeves and a pair of dark grunge jeans with a polka dot bandanna on her head to hold back her hair. Vastly different garb than what one might expect the princesses to wear.

"Well, are you going to let us in or not?" asked Snow.

"Oh. Y-Yeah. Of course," said Mia, stepping aside and beckoning them in. "But don't you guys have to, like, be at the castle and, you know, _rule_?"

Cindy laughed. "We can rule from anywhere, Miandra."

"Besides, the castle's well protected," said Snow. "We left Grumpy in charge. He's more than capable."

Cindy rolled her eyes. "You know they hate those nicknames, right?"

"What? No..."

"Well, they do."

"They've never said anything about it."

"Why would they, Snow? They don't want to upset you."

"Uh, so, can I get you anything to drink?" asked Mia, hoping to avert a sisterly squabble. "Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea would be great."

"Yes, please."

The girls sat at the table sipping tea and chatting.

"I really didn't expect you," Mia reiterated. "I mean, it's not that I don't appreciate it, but you really don't have to do this."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Miandra," said Snow. "We know you've got your work cut out for you here. We're honestly happy to help. Besides, it's not like we don't have experience with such things."

"Lots of experience," said Cindy. "Slaving away at housekeeping sort of comes with the territory of having wicked stepmothers."

"Or just wicked mothers in general," Mia muttered.

Cindy and Snow exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"Anyway," said Snow, forcing a smile. "What say we tackle this house full force?"

"Absolutely," said Cindy. "Miandra?"

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

Cindy took the dining room as Mia and Snow double-teamed the kitchen.

"You sure you two don't want to call your animal friends to help us with this mess?" Mia teased as she mopped the kitchen floor.

"As if!" Snow laughed as she dusted the cupboards. "Can you imagine what a mess that'd be?"

"Oh, the poop," said Cindy with a shudder in her voice.

" _So_ much poop!" laughed Snow.

"You guys are nothing like what I expected."

"I hope that's a compliment," said Cindy.

"It's _definitely_ a compliment," said Mia, grinning.

"By the way, what's this music you've got playing?" asked Cindy.

"Oh. Uh, sorry," said Mia.

Edward had raised her on artists like David Bowie, Guns n' Roses, Duran Duran, and Kiss. The modern music of her generation didn't appeal to her, and she was used to apologizing to her peers for her antiquated taste.

"No, don't shut it off," said Snow, when Mia picked up her phone.

"Yeah, it's cool," said Cindy. "I like it."

Mia smiled. On Earth, she'd always been an outsider and a bit of a loner. She'd always felt so different from everyone else, to the point where she was constantly apologizing for it. Here, she was accepted – totally and unquestioningly. And while she never had many friends before, here, now, she was friends with princesses. _Princesses!_ More and more, Mia was coming to love Cindy and Snow like the sisters she never had.

Snow was standing on a chair and cleaning the high cupboards when she suddenly let out a scream. Mia jumped and dropped the mop.

"What? What is it?"

Cindy came running into the kitchen, holding the broom like a bo staff. "Snow! What happened?"

Snow leapt off the chair and backed up clear across the kitchen. She pointed a trembling finger towards the cupboards. "M-Mouse... in the cupboard..."

"Oh Snow," sighed Cindy, dropping her broom as she moved to the cupboard.

"Careful!" Snow warned. She lifted herself onto the sink to keep her feet from touching the floor, just in case the mouse should dart to ground level.

"Hey, little buddy," cooed Cindy, reaching into the cupboard. "There, there. It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped down from the chair, her hands cupped around the furry brown critter.

"Cindy! What are you doing?!"

"Really, Snow!" Cindy admonished. "Afraid of a little mouse."

"It could have rabies, Cindy! You don't know!"

Cindy rolled her eyes. "It's fine," she said. "I'll put him outside."

Snow looked at Mia as Cindy opened the front door. "Can you believe her?!" she asked.

Mia didn't know what to say, so she gave a shrug. _She_ certainly wouldn't have picked up a mouse, not unless it had come from the pet store.

"There," said Cindy, closing the door after depositing the mouse. "Gone. He won't be bothering you again."

"Wash your hands!" Snow ordered.

Rolling her eyes again, Cindy went to the kitchen sink and washed her hands with dish soap. "Why don't you ladies handle the living room and I'll finish the scary kitchen, okay?"

Snow was more than happy to put as much distance between herself and any more rodents that might be hiding in cupboards. She took Mia by the hand and pulled her into the living room.

"Here, Miandra," she said, handing her the broom and taking a feather duster for herself. "You take care of the floor and I'll get the cobwebs."

The girls worked diligently. Mia had never before taken such pleasure in cleaning.

"Hey, your music just shut off," Cindy called.

Mia joined her in the kitchen, inspecting her phone. "Oh, damn. Battery's dead. I don't suppose I could charge it here, could I?"

"I'm not sure," said Cindy. "I don't know much about these things, but I hear the Imagineers have them, or something similar."

"They're all the rage in Hyperion City," said Snow. "And I hear they're getting popular in Paridon now, too."

"What's Hyperion City?" asked Mia.

"It's sort of a middle ground between Main Street and Epcot," Snow explained.

"How so?"

"Hmm... How to describe it in a way that makes sense to you," said Snow, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her lips. "Ah. Okay. So, like, when he was here, Sir Walter Disney described Main Street as a conglomeration of small-town USA from the early 1900s—"

"That's a good description," said Mia, nodding.

"...whereas he used the words _futuristic metropolis_ to describe Epcot."

"Spot on," agreed Mia.

"Well, Hyperion City is basically just a large, modern city."

"You might compare it to a mix of Los Angeles and New York from your world," explained Cindy. "Perhaps with a bit of Hollywood thrown in for good measure."

"Really? Hollywood?"

"Well, in the sense that it's the film-making capital of Dizgaia," said Snow. "There are movie studios and film-making facilities there. It's where most of our modern media entertainment comes from."

"I see," said Mia. Hyperion City sounded pretty cool. Perhaps she could convince Blair to take her there some time.

"As for your phone," said Cindy. "I'd ask your father when he gets home. In the meantime, we can fill the silence with our own music."

"I always did like a good tune to clean to," said Snow.

"I guess that's something Walt Disney didn't get wrong then, huh?" said Mia.

"Well, princesses may not be _all_ about singing and cleaning," said Cindy. "But we _do_ like to sing."

"We _love_ to sing! Maybe you'll recognize this one, Miandra," said Snow, smiling knowingly. "If you do, feel free to join in."

She began to sing.

"I'd like to dance and tap my feet  
But they won't keep the rhythm  
You see, I washed them both today  
And I can't do nothing with them..."

Both sisters sang the chorus together.

"Ho hum, the tune is dumb  
The words don't mean a thing  
Isn't this a silly song  
For anyone to sing?"

Much to their surprise and delight, Mia took up the next verse.

"I chased a polecat up a tree  
Way out upon a limb  
And when he got the best of me  
I got the worst of him..."

Laughing, all three girls sang:

"Ho hum, the tune is dumb  
The words don't mean a thing  
Isn't this a silly song  
For anyone to sing?"

There were more verses to the song that were not featured in Disney's _Snow White,_ so Mia let the princesses sing them and she continued to join them for the chorus. When that song was finished, Snow sang _Whistle While You Work_ , with Cindy and Mia whistling at all the right cues. And amazingly, it really did seem like things were getting done so much faster when they sang.

When Cindy began to recite _Sing, Sweet Nightingale,_ Mia paused in her sweeping to listen. Cindy's singing voice was nothing like in the Disney movie. She had a deep, sexy alto, but it was very beautiful.

When Cindy finished, Mia shook herself out of her stupor and began sweeping a particularly dusty corner of the room. Then she saw it – an abomination that haunted the corner near the bookshelf. She let out a shriek. Cindy and Snow came running.

"Miandra! Are you okay?"

Now it was Mia's turn to point a trembling finger at the dusty corner. "S-Spider..."

"Oh, ew!" cried Snow, hiding behind Mia. "It's huge!"

"It's not huge," said Cindy, hunkering down to take a closer look at it.

"Ew, ew, ew! Kill it, Cindy!"

"No! I'm not going to kill it."

"If you won't, I will," said Snow, taking off her shoe and advancing on the spider.

"Stop!" said Cindy, pushing her sister back.

"This is no time to be noble, Cindy! It's a spider for goodness sake! A spider glaring at us with all those eyes, just waiting to sink his pincers into us!"

"Don't you dare kill it! I'll be right back."

"It's him or us, Cindy!" Snow called as Cindy went into the kitchen and came back with a mason jar. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna scoop him into this and take him outside."

"Oh brother," said Snow, rolling her eyes. "Cynthia Eleanor, the mighty warrior, can't even kill a spider."

"It's bad luck to kill a spider."

"Since when are you so superstitious?" asked Snow, but Cindy didn't reply.

"What if it comes back?" Mia asked nervously as Cindy opened a window and dumped the spider outside.

"Then tell your father to turn it into a kitty cat."

Mia exchanged a helpless glance with Snow.

"She just doesn't get it," said Snow.

They heard the rumbling of a large vehicle pulling up the front drive, followed by the sound of a car horn.

"Oh! That must be the movers," said Cindy, heading for the door.

"Movers?" said Mia. She joined Cindy at the front door and watched as four men took a large, beautiful hand-crafted bedframe out of the back of a moving truck and carried it up the front porch.

"Wait, what is that?" said Mia, stepping aside as the men lifted the bed over the threshold and carried it into the house.

"Upstairs, gentlemen," Cindy called to them. "It's the last room at the end of the hallway."

"Cindy, what's going on?" asked Mia.

"We've brought you a bed, Miandra."

"What? But you didn't have to do that! I mean, I'm grateful, but—"

"Don't be silly, Miandra. Where did you expect to sleep? In your crib?"

"Well—"

"You can't keep sleeping on the couch either," said Snow. "You're not a visitor. You're a resident. This is your home, and you deserve a proper bed."

"Well, yes, granted. But I'm sure my dad would've gotten me one eventually."

"Consider it a gift, Miandra," said Cindy. "After all, the dwarves worked very hard on it."

"You mean they finished it in just one night?!"

"Dwarves are master craftsmen," explained Snow. "They're good _and_ fast. There's seven of them after all. But beyond that, dwarves have their own brand of magic. But you didn't hear that from me," she said, placing a finger to her lips and giving Mia a wink.

The men came back downstairs empty-handed and went out the front door.

"Um, thank you," Mia called to them as she started to close the door.

"Wait a second, Miandra," said Cindy, pushing the door back open. "They're not done yet."

The men returned, this time with a full vanity.

"Same room, guys," Snow instructed.

"Another one?" said Mia, jaw agape. "How did they ever—"

"This one isn't the work of dwarves," Snow explained. "We had to buy this one."

" _Buy?"_ Mia shook her head in disbelief. "But that... It must've cost—"

"Mere peanuts for a princess," said Cindy, waving her off.

"Okay, sure, but, like, still! I mean, you hardly know me."

"Look, Miandra," said Snow, putting her hands on her hips. "We love Uncle Blair and we love you, too. We want to make sure you guys are well-taken care of. It doesn't mean we're gonna suddenly start paying the bills. Your dad is more than capable. But at least allow us this much."

"I know it feels like we only just met, Miandra," said Cindy, placing her hands upon Mia's shoulders. Mia had to look up, as Cindy was a whole head taller than her. "But it's more than that. We've known Uncle Blair forever, and we knew you when you were just a baby. If your mother hadn't taken you to Earth, we may well have become like surrogate big sisters to you. Just because you were whisked away and we missed all that time and you're older now doesn't mean we feel any differently about you than we did then."

"Really?" said Mia, her voice wavering with emotion. "You mean that?"

"Of course we do. You don't realize how special you are!"

"There's nothing special about me."

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Snow. "You're the—"

"The Dreamfinder's daughter. I know," said Mia. "But it's not like I can do what he does. So, what's the big—"

"It _is_ a big deal, Miandra," said Cindy quite seriously.

"Uncle Blair must not have told her," said Snow quietly.

"Told me what?" asked Mia, confused.

"The other reason you're so special," said Cindy.

The men returned before Mia could inquire further.

"All done, your highnesses."

"Thank you, gentlemen."

"Is there anything else we can do for you? You need only ask."

Cindy shook her head, smiling. "No, thank you. That will be all."

The men bowed. Two of them kissed Cindy and Snow's hand. Mia watched as they returned to their moving van and drove down the hill and out of sight.

"So what is it?" Mia asked. "Why am I special?"

"We'll tell you, Miandra, but first let's take a good look at your new furniture, shall we?"

"Besides, you'll want to set it up the way you want it," said Snow.

"All right," said Mia warily as she led the way to her bedroom.

Now that she was able to get a closer look at it, Mia saw that the hand-crafted bed had an elaborate and beautiful headboard with gilded roses and cherubs carved into it. There were even drawers for storage built into the bottom of the bed.

"Oh wow," she murmured, running her hand along it. "It's beautiful!"

"The dwarves will be pleased to hear it," said Snow with a smile.

"Check out the mattress," said Cindy. "It was the finest we could find in the castle. It's got a featherbed topper, too. Goose down."

Mia plopped onto it and dropped onto her back. "Oh, wow..."

Cindy and Snow dropped onto either side of her, letting out a collective "Ahh..."

The three girls laid side by side on the bed, enjoying a bit of a breather after all their hard work. For a while, they just lay in companionable silence. Then, Mia repeated her question.

"So, why am I special? Tell me."

Cindy rolled onto her side to face Mia. "You recall yesterday we spoke of Chernabog and how the Order of Yensid sealed him away?"

Mia nodded.

"What we didn't discuss was that before Chernabog was imprisoned, there was a great war. All the great heroes and guardians banded together against the Dark Ones. While we all fought Chernabog's armies, the Order of Yensid sealed him away. The good guys won that day, but did not escape unscathed. Maleficent placed a curse on the heroes who defied Chernabog."

Mia propped herself up on her elbow and gazed wide-eyed at Cindy.

"What was the curse?"

"That none of the guardians, heroes, or monarchs of the 10 Kingdoms should ever bear any children."

"You mean..."

"That's right," said Snow solemnly. "Cindy and I, Eric and Ariel of Vandsgaard, Aurora and Phillip of Rosebriar, Belle and Adam of Paridon, et cetera... None of us can bear children. And that curse extends to even the Order of Yensid – Flora, Fauna, Merriweather, Adora, Freya, and even your father and the great Yensid himself – cannot have children."

Mia furrowed her brow. "But my father—"

"Your father _did_ have a child," Cindy finished for her. "Perhaps it was because he mated with an Earth woman, or perhaps the very nature of his spark, something within him, allowed his deepest, dearest wish to come true. Nobody knows. But whatever the case... You, Miandra, are literally a miracle baby."

~~~

After a long day at the Institute, Blair was finally on his way home in the passenger seat of Dr. Channing's Mini Cooper. Channing regaled Blair with all the progress they'd been making on various ongoing projects, but his biggest source of frustration, currently, was in regards to the geodesic sphere.

"It's both remarkable and embarrassing that we're no closer to truly understanding the sort of power held within the Gaia Sphere! I mean, honestly, you'd think we might've figured something out by now. It just sits there, humming day in and day out. We know it's the key to merging the two worlds, but do we even know how to do it? And moreover, _should_ we?"

"It's quite all right, Nigel. We at least know it's useful for powering the Rainbow Corridor. And creating a link between our world and Earth is what we've always intended to do with it."

"But is that still a viable plan, Blarion? From the sound of things, the world on the other side grows darker and bleaker as time goes on. Not to mention the temporal imbalance between Dizgaia and Earth, as well as the... troubles... we've been facing here lately. Would the power within the Gaia Sphere not be put to better use for _our_ world alone? I simply do not see the point in continuing on our current trajectory when we don't even fully understand it."

"I understand your concerns, Nigel. And yes... perhaps the Utopia Project isn't as much of a priority as it once was. But I cannot simply let it go! It was Yen Sid and the ambassadors' greatest desire that Earth and Dizgaia should one day become as one – for the good of _all_ people. We will crack it, Nigel. So long as we put our minds to it."

"I wish I could share your optimism," said Channing sullenly.

When the car pulled up to the Mercurial residence at the top of the hill, Blair was more than happy to escape the stuffy confines of Nigel Channing's car. Nigel was a brilliant scientist, but his constant pessimism and frequent whining could grow tiresome quickly.

"Thanks again, Nigel."

"Yeah, thanks, Doc!" Figment said with the usual exuberance that made Channing wince.

"Of course. Do give my best to your daughter, Blarion."

"I certainly will. Have a good night, Nigel."

As Channing's car pulled away and headed back down the hill, Blair stood outside the house, drawing a deep breath and taking in the night air. The lights were on in the house, warm and welcoming; a wonderful reminder that his daughter was at home, waiting for him. There was no need to interact with SMRT-1 this evening, as the door was unlocked. Blair wasn't so sure he liked that. He'd have to speak with Miandra about house safety when she was home alone. But as he stepped into the house, all such concerns fled his mind as he was greeted not only by the sight of an immaculate house, but by the smell of something delicious.

"Miandra, dear... We're home!" he called, hanging his jacket upon the coat rack.

"Welcome home!" she called from the kitchen.

"Mmm! Mmm! Something smells wonderful, Dreamfinder!" exclaimed Figment.

Blair nodded, taking another delightful whiff as they headed for the kitchen. "Miandra, what smells so good?"

"Supper, of course," Mia replied over her shoulder from the kitchen stove. "Wash up and come sit down. It's just about ready."

As Blair and Figment went to the bathroom to wash up, they got to preview even more of the house. Miandra had indeed outdone herself. No more cobwebs. Not even a speck of dust remained. When they returned to the dining room table, Miandra set two plates of peppercorn ribeye steak and steamed carrots in front of them.

"Wow, wow, wow! It looks so yummy, Miandra!" Figment cried delightedly.

"Thanks," said Mia.

"This is positively wonderful," said Blair, doffing his hat and gloves. "I can't believe you've done all this!"

"Well, I made dinner, but I admit to having some help with the cleaning. Cindy and Snow surprised me with a visit. I don't think I could've managed it all without them."

"What? The princesses? They came to clean?"

"Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. But they were a huge help. And would you believe they even brought me my very own bed and a vanity? I can't wait for you to see my room!"

Blair smiled. The crib and the changing table in Miandra's room were constructed by the dwarves and gifted by Cindy and Snow to the Mercurials to celebrate the birth of their daughter. Blair had no doubt taht Miandra's new furniture was of a similar creation.

"I look forward to seeing it myself," he said.

"Oh, and don't worry about the crib and changing table," she said quickly. "I didn't get rid of them. We just carried them up to the attic. I did the same with my baby clothes. It seemed a shame to get rid of them."

"That's good, dear. I appreciate it. I'm not sure I could bear to part with them completely."

"Yeah, and who knows? Maybe I can make use of them again someday, if I have children of my own."

Blair nodded and smiled. Miandra had a point, but he didn't want to think about his 19-year-old daughter getting married and having children just yet. She was still so young and inexperienced. And besides, he'd only just gotten her back. He wasn't sure he was ready for a handsome young man to swoop in and steal her away from him. Beyond that, he wasn't quite ready to be a grandfather yet; though the idea wasn't entirely unappealing.

"Can we eat now?" asked Figment. "I'm starving and it smells _so_ good!"

"Of course," said Mia. "But first..." She reached into the fridge and took out a bottle of chilled wine, brandishing it proudly. "I thought we ought to celebrate our return home properly."

She set some wine glasses on the table and began to pour the delectable red liquid inside. "I was super stoked to learn the drinking age in Cerenopia is only 18. On Earth, I'm two years too young. This world just keeps getting better and better."

"Now, now, Miandra. You shouldn't take that as an excuse to drink to excess," Blair warned. Nevertheless, he gladly accepted the liquid proffered to him.

Mia rolled her eyes as she poured them each a generous serving. "Aw, come on. Live a little, Blair."

"At the very least, I wouldn't offer Figment a glass. Who knows what effect it might have on a creature born of Imaginergy?"

"And beyond that, he's already so goofy. I'd be a little afraid to see what he'd be like if he were to get inebriated."

Figment crossed his arms and stuck his snout in the air. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here," he said in such an uncharacteristically stuffy manner that he sent Mia and Blair into hysterics. Figment tried to remain indignant, but soon he was giggling, too.

Drinks having been served, Mia sat down at the table and they each tucked into their suppers.

"Tell me what you think," she said. "Be honest."

One bite told Blair all he needed to know. "This is positively marvelous, Miandra! I didn't realize you could cook, too." He took another cut of steak and a generous helping of steamed carrots. "Splendid," he said with his mouth full. "Simply splendid, dear!"

As the little Mercurial family enjoyed their first proper family dinner, talk was at a minimum. They were more than content to enjoy their supper and one another's quiet company. However, after a time, Mia brought up something that was a smidge uncomfortable for the both of them.

"So, uh, about Mom's clothes..." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hated bringing up her mother or anything that would remind Blair of his former wife. "Well, I tried them on and it seems I'm about the same size as she was when she was my age, so I figured, since I still don't have a lot of clothes aside from what we bought the other day, I could wear them. If that's okay with you, that is. I moved them into my room and put them in my chest of drawers."

Blair hesitated to respond. The thought of Mia taking hand-me-downs from Beverly struck an emotional chord with him. However, he must push that aside. It was the most logical move, after all. Mia needed more clothes, and Beverly had a wide variety. She had clothes from 1930s Earth as well as a plethora of styles and fashions from Dizgaia itself. Mia essentially had her pick of the littler as far as clothes went, and that would save them on expenses.

"That's all right with me, dear," he said. "It takes care of some problems on both our ends."

"Awesome! Cindy and Snow and I found quite the variety when we were going through them. We sort of had ourselves a bit of a fashion show," she admitted.

Blair chuckled. "I would've liked to have seen that."

"I was amazed by how many decades of fashions they spanned," said Mia.

Beverly's old wardrobe consisted of swing dresses from the 1930s, vintage 1950s dresses, skirts, button-down blouses, bell-bottom jeans, even some retro '80s style clothes, and denim jackets that looked like they came straight out of the '90s.

"Dizgaia has its own fashions, but much like cars, we've also taken a lot from Earth trends," said Blair. "As a young woman, you'll find the other great thing about Dizgaia is that while there are always new trends, nothing ever truly goes out of fashion."

"You mean I'll never be out of style? That's awesome!"

"I think they'll all look wonderful on you, dear." Blair took a slow sip of wine. "Though speaking of something that doesn't look so wonderful, I couldn't help but notice something different about the car when I came home. A little... uh... imperfection, as it were, on the front fender that I'm pretty sure wasn't there before." He folded his hands on the table and tilted his head inquisitively. "Care to discuss that with me?"

Mia choked on her wine and set down her glass. "Y-Yeah, about that..." she said, laughing sheepishly. "I know you said it was an automatic transmission, but the Type E's controls are... different. It took me a bit to get the hang of them. I had a little fender bender with a tree. It's only aesthetic," she said quickly before Blair could say anything. "I promise is still runs fine."

"Entirely my fault, dear," he said with an apologetic smile. "I should have mentioned it to you sooner. You see, I installed a modification which allows the car to run on an automatic setting. There's a small gold lever with a blue tip. When pushed up, it switches the transmission to automatic. I completely forgot to mention it. But as you said, the damage is only aesthetic. I'm not cross with you."

Mia breathed a sigh of relief and gave her father a playful glare. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you were gonna go apeshit on me."

"Miandra, do I really look capable of going... what you just said?"

Mia chewed her lower lip, trying not to laugh.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly. They passed the time talking late into the night, about anything and everything, and before bed, they took turns reading aloud from one of Blair's favorite mystery novels. Mia loved hearing him read. That soft English baritone had a melodious sort of sound which rumbled from deep within this chest and came out through his mouth, each word spoken like he was tasting it, relishing it.

Mia stretched out across the couch and laid her head in his lap and closed her eyes, just listening. She had completely forgotten to ask him about charging her phone. In fact, she was beginning to forget many things. For now, Blair Mercurial, Figment, and the house on Tomorrow Hill were her world, and nothing else from before seemed to matter.

When Miandra's soft snores began to fill the living room, Blair closed the book and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to bed. He pulled the coverlet over her and kissed her forehead.

"Sleep well, dearest." As he crept to the bedroom door to leave, he heard Mia's voice call softly to him from the bed.

"Dad..."

He paused at her door. "Yes, Miandra?"

"I know why all the princess came to visit me when I was born and why it was such a big deal."

"Oh?" he said, coming back to take a seat on the edge of her bed. "And why is that, dear?"

"I'm a miracle baby," she said.

Blair gave her a surprised look.

"Cindy and Snow told me about Maleficent's curse," she explained. "And why I'm so special."

Blair smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners and shimmering with unfallen tears. "That's right, Miandra. You are very, _very_ special, indeed. I'm not sure how your mother and I managed it. Maybe it was something in her genetic makeup, being from a different dimension and whatnot, or perhaps it was something inside myself; my spark, if you will. I had imagined having a little girl so often that perhaps I granted myself the ability to conceive."

Mia gazed up at him, her eyes shimmering. "You mean you always wanted a daughter, specifically?"

Blair placed a gloved hand against her cheek and gently caressed it. "Yes, dearest. I always wanted a little girl."

"Not many men would say that."

"Well, I suppose I wanted a daddy's girl," he admitted.

Mia smiled up at him. "I'm definitely a daddy's girl."

With tears in his eyes, Blair leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Miandra."

"G'night, Dad."

The next several days were the best of days of Blarion Mercurial's life, barring the day his daughter was born, of course. Each morning he woke up, had breakfast with his daughter, and then headed off to work. He arrived home each evening to a wonderful dinner cooked by Miandra and they talked and laughed late into the night.

However, it was also during this time that he was visited by a series of nightmares. In the first, Miandra was in a cage, crying, begging to be set free. But it was not Maleficent, nor was it the Mad Hatter or the March Hare who held her. No, in fact, that villain who had her locked up was none other than himself, Blarion Mercurial.

_"Please understand, dearest," he said, "I'm doing this to protect you."_

_But another voice rang out, one he'd not heard in so very, very long._

_"Blair, please! Let her go! Let her come home!"_

_It was Beverly. Blair turned to face his long-lost wife._

_"I can't!" he insisted. "She belongs here with me! You had your turn at being her mother, but now it's my turn at being her father! I never had the chance! You took her away from me!"_

_"Please, Blair! Mia_ has _a father! His name is Edward Baxter and he's very worried! It's not fair to keep her here, away from us!"_

_"But she_ wants _to be here, Beverly! This is what she wants!" He turned to the cage, pressing his face against the bars and gazing in at his frightened daughter. "This_ is _what you want, right, Miandra? You want to stay with me in Dizgaia, don't you?"_

_Miandra whimpered, saying nothing._

_"Why are you afraid, Miandra? Don't be afraid, dearest. I'm your father and I will always protect you."_

_The sound of clopping hooves drew his attention elsewhere. A mysterious man astride a noble steed drew near. Although he'd never seen the man for himself, Blair's subconscious told him that this was Edward Baxter, Miandra's adopted father. Curiously, Edward's garb was not so unlike that of the heroic Prince Philip. He even wielded a shield and a sword._

_"No!" cried Blair. "You can't have her! She's my daughter! Do you understand? Miandra is mine!"_

_Suddenly, as though he had no ability to control it, Blair turned into a giant dragon, not so unlike Maleficent, though his scales were a twinkling blue. He blew a jet of fire at Edward, who raised his shield to deflect the blast._

_As they did battle, Blair heard Miandra cry out. "No! No! Leave him alone! Stop! Please!"_

Blair awoke with a start. He shot up in bed, panting, his brow thick with cold sweat. He went to the bathroom and splashed water onto his face. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. A pale, frightened face stared back at him.

"You're not a bad person, Blarion," he told his reflection. "You did not kidnap Miandra and take her away from Earth to Dizgaia. Flynn brought her here on account of Gaston. You're not _forcing_ her to stay. She _wants_ to stay."

But was he, perhaps, a little selfish? After all, he knew Miandra's mother and adopted father were back on Earth, no doubt worried sick about her. Blair also knew that Dizgaia could have a forgetfulness effect on those from Earth. After a prolonged stay in this dimension, oftentimes people from Earth found themselves forgetting little things here and there about their previous life. And the little things gradually became bigger things.

While he didn't think Miandra had truly forgotten her parents, he did suspect that she'd forgotten to remember them, so to speak. She'd not brought up Edward since her first day on Dizgaia, not even once. And yet, he knew from speaking with her the first day of her arrival in Dizgaia, that Mia cared deeply for her adopted father.

He knew Miandra was angry with Beverly, but to have not once considered _Edward's_ feelings and how worried he, as a father himself, must be for her, told Blair that Miandra's priorities were becoming skewed as a result of forgetfulness induced by the journey from one dimension to another. Perhaps it was Blair's responsibility to remind her of this.

"First thing tomorrow, I'll talk with her about it," he told his reflection. "And I'll see what she wants to do as far as at least getting a message to them to let them know she's all right."

But tomorrow never came. Certainly, the sun rose and a new day began, but Blair found he was unable (or was it that he was unwilling?) to bring up Beverly and Edward. A part of him worried that when he did, Miandra would realize her error and wish to return to Earth, and he would lose her all over again. He couldn't bear it. So, he never brought it up.

_Tomorrow,_ he thought. _Tomorrow for certain._

But with every _tomorrow_ he never had the gumption to truly say what needed to be said. Days passed, and then a week, and he never had the courage. He couldn't lose Miandra. Not again. And so, his guilt remained and the nightmares persisted. He knew there was one sure way to make them stop, but his courage failed him every time.

_I truly am a selfish person,_ he thought to himself one night as he stood in the doorway to Miandra's bedroom, watching his beloved daughter dream the peaceful dreams that he himself had lost.

He knelt at her bedside and trailed his fingers through her hair. _I'm so sorry, Miandra. But I just can't let you go. Not again. I couldn't take it. It would be the death of me. I'm so, so sorry, dearest._


	18. An Illuminating Performance

Monday morning, Dr. Channing called a meeting in the main lecture hall of the Institute. Attendance was mandatory, and all employees were present, from the most brilliant of Imagineers like Professor Brainard to even the humble Miss Bonnie Appetite.

"As you know, Princess Cindy and Princess Snow have asked us all to come together and create magnificent displays to incorporate into the parade celebrating the return of Professor Mercurial's daughter," he announced. "We're really coming down to the wire here. We've got one week left to get everything finished, so I do hope you all are working diligently on your projects. That being said, off with you all! Chop chop!"

"He called a meeting just to say _chop chop?"_ Tadashi muttered to Flynn. "What does he think we are, children?"

"I don't know, man. Sometimes I think Channing just like to hear himself talk. Speaking of which, what've you got in mind for your float, Tadashi?"

"Uh-uh," said Tadashi with a mischievous schoolboy smile. "I wouldn't want to give away the surprise. Trade secret and all."

"You're going to do something with the Baymax units."

"All right, smartass. What are _you_ doing for Miandra's parade celebration?"

Flynn frowned and shook his head. "I honestly don't know, man."

Flynn wandered aimlessly throughout the institute that morning, trying desperately to come up with the perfect parade float for Mia. He kept coming up blank. He wanted to do something special, something that would make for a real good apology. But he'd never been any good at this sort of thing. If he was going to do something special for Mia, he was going to need some help. He knew who he needed to seek out, and it wasn't one of the Institute's brilliant Imagineers.

An hour after lunch, Flynn arrived in the Institute's cafeteria. He cut through the kitchen and into a private room beyond. This was the personal office and de facto dressing room of Bonnie Appetite. Her door sat ajar, so Flynn approached and peeked inside.

Today, Bonnie was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white peasant blouse. Between showtimes, she'd been practicing for her part in the parade to celebrate the return of Blair's daughter. Bonnie's hair was held up in a clip with wisps and tendrils hanging down. For Bonnie, this was casual wear, unlike the choir of holographic children now standing before her, who were dressed in tuxes and cute little church dresses.

"Gemma, dear, please fix your hair. I won't ask you again," she told one of the little holographic girls. "And Rylan," she said to a little holo boy who was dancing around in a pair of boxers and making faces, "Please change back into a tuxedo."

In the blink of an eye, the little boy summoned a tuxedo onto his body.

"There," said Bonnie, pushing tendrils of hair out of her face. "That's better. From the top now." In a sing-song voice, she said, "Tomorrow's Child..." She moved her arms as though she were conducting, and the children began to sing.

" _Tomorrow's child..."_

"Gathering gifts from our past," sang Bonnie. "Tomorrow's child..."

_"Tomorrow's child..."_

"Shaping a world that will last..."

_"Flynn!"_

The holographic children rushed past Bonnie to intercept the man who'd just entered. They ran circles around him, shouting his name excitedly.

_"Flynn! Flynn! Hi, Flynn! Hiya, Flynn!"_ A little holo boy leapt up and grabbed onto Flynn's arm, swinging weightlessly from his bicep.

"Heya, squirts!" Flynn greeted as he was glomped by his creations.

Bonnie sighed with amused exasperation. "Hello, Flynn. We were just rehearsing for the parade."

"Yeah, I heard the song. It sounds really good."

"Thank you, Flynn. That's very kind of you to say. I _do_ hope Miandra likes it. I wrote it as a gift for the Mercurials when she was born, and I haven't performed it since. It's a little nerve-wracking, to be honest."

"I remember it, Bonnie. It's a beautiful song. And it's really great to wanna sing it again for Mia."

Meanwhile, the holographic children were still running around Flynn, in complete disregard that the two adults were trying to have a conversation.

"Take five, children," said Bonnie.

_"Ten!"_

"Five."

_"Fifteen!"_

"All right. Ten."

_"Yay!"_

The children fizzled out of sight. Bonnie sighed, shaking her head. "I love them to pieces, Flynn, but they are just _so_ much like real children, it can be difficult sometimes. I suppose that's a testament to your skill."

Each of the holo children was a holographic A.I. that Flynn had designed for Bonnie so she could branch out from the Kitchen Kabaret; though she had yet to do so on account of her low self-confidence. In Flynn's opinion, Bonnie Appetite had no reason to lack confidence. She was beautiful _and_ talented. The children were a gift to Bonnie, someone he considered to be his colleague as much as any Imagineer in the institute. She'd never been able to have children of her own, and so he programmed the holographic A.I.s to be as childlike as possible. Of course, this meant they could be just as rambunctious and unfocused as real children.

Bonnie took a seat in a nearby chair. "So, what brings you here, handsome? Shouldn't you be working on your contribution to the parade?"

Flynn rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. "Yeah... About that... That's part of the reason I'm here. I really wanted to stop in here and pick your brain a bit. See, uh, I want to do something really, really special. Something that will amaze Mia. Something that'll make her... not so mad at me anymore."

Bonnie quirked an eyebrow. "Mad at you? Why should she be mad at you? You rescued her from Gaston, right? Did you do something, Flynn?" She patted the seat beside her. "Come on, handsome. Tell me what you've done, and I'll do my best to advise you on how to make it right."

Flynn took a seat beside her, looking shameful. "Like, it's kind of embarrassing, really. And I never meant to do anything that would upset or hurt her. I made a teasing joke that she took the wrong way."

He knew this wasn't enough. There was more to it. And if he was to enlist Bonnie's help, he'd need to be forthcoming.

"Look, don't go spilling any of this to Mercurial, okay?"

He proceeded to tell regale her with how Mia had come to his office late one night to thank him and how he'd introduced her to the game grid, that they'd had a lot of fun, and how one thing led to another. Bonnie listened silently, never once interrupting, though her eyebrows ascended ever higher the further Flynn got into his tale. Finally, he got to the part where they'd exited The Grid and how he'd responded to Mia's question about how far he'd intended to take things.

"So now she thinks I'm just some total sleazoid who only wanted to mess around with her once and then ditch her. If that was any further from the truth, you'd need a passport just to believe it!"

"Oh, Flynn," Bonnie sighed. "At your age, you should really know better than that. _I_ know the kind of person you are, but she doesn't know you that well yet. It doesn't matter if she's seen the movies. It's not the same as knowing the _real_ you. And to joke like that in this stage of getting to know each other..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "As for picking my brain, my advice to you is to create something from the heart. Yes, use that incredible brain of yours to accomplish it," she said, poking him gently in the forehead, "But it has to come from here." She pressed her hand against his chest, just over his heart.

Flynn lowered his gaze to his chest. "From the heart..." he murmured thoughtfully. Bonnie had very solid, almost motherly advice; although it was hard to think of her in a motherly way. She was just so sassy and attractive. Nevertheless, she was completely spot on.

"She needs to know how you feel," said Bonnie. "Not by mere words – though the phrase _I'm sorry_ comes to mind as something you _should_ say – but through actions. Young women want to feel wanted. Not just physically, but emotionally. They want to feel special. For this parade, for Miandra's special night, she should feel like a princess. Perhaps that should be your objective, honey. Make Miandra feel like a princess."

"Like a princess..." he mused. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Like a princess! Yeah! Yeah, that's beautiful!" He grinned as he leaned closer to Bonnie. "I just had a wild brainstorm, man. Miss Appetite, how would you feel about working with me on something of a collaboration?"

"First of all, just Bonnie will do. Second, absolutely! I would be honored, Flynn." She leaned towards him as well, looking almost conspiratorial as she rested her elbow on her knee and placed her chin in her hand. "So... what did you have in mind?"

~~~

The night of the big event had come at last. Blair was looking his best for the occasion. He exchanged his blue lab-coat, a style he'd been wearing for quite some time, for an old classic – a dark blue tuxedo jacket with coattails. Beneath it, he wore a deep red paisley vest and a white button-down dress shirt and matching bowtie. He went the full nine yards with a set of white spats over his shiny black dress shoes. No goggles adorned his top hat this evening. He wanted to look his absolute most dressy.

Miandra had been upstairs, shut up in her bedroom for quite some time. Any time Blair knocked and asked to come in, she quickly turned him away. Not even Figment was allowed in. Miandra was determined that no one would see her until she was absolutely certain she was ready.

However, she'd been in there a long time. Blair supposed this was to be expected. Miandra was a young woman after all. Her mother had been the same way. In Blair's experience, the end result was always worth the wait. But it was getting late and it wouldn't do for her to be tardy to her own celebration. After all, the entire city was coming out for this parade to be held in her honor.

"Miandra, dear!" he called up the stairs. "We don't want to be late, you know!"

"Coming!"

She appeared at the top of the stairs in a dazzling silver dress. The top portion was a V-neck tank bodice with shining sequins. The skirt of the dress was chiffon in an A-line style. She wore a pair of soft, silver slippers to match. Mia's hair was pulled back off her face, leaving only tiny wisps at the sides and a controlled windswept look at the top, while the rest hung down behind her shoulders.

"Well?" she asked as she descended the stairs. "Do you like it? Cindy and Snow insisted upon it."

"Miandra, dear, you look positively beautiful! How lucky of a father I am to have such an extraordinary and enchanting young woman for a daughter! And if Cindy and Snow insisted upon it, then it's no wonder it's absolutely stunning on you."

"Come on now," she said, blushing. "I'm already self-conscious enough as it is. Anyway, it was a gift, so I figured I'd better wear it – or else."

"It's perfect, dear. Simply perfect." He walked towards her, a proud yet bittersweet expression on his face. "It really wasn't that long ago... when I held you in my arms, and all you wished to do was smile and try to grab hold of my nose. Now look at you," he said, tears shining in his eyes. "Already a beautiful young woman... all too soon."

On the one hand, Mia supposed this was the way all fathers felt about their grown-up daughters. But on the other hand, due to the time difference between Dizgaia and Earth, for Blair it may truly not have been all that long ago. When Mia thought about it, she realized just how tragic it was for him.

"Some things never change, you know," she told him.

She reached up and tweaked his nose. Then, she held up a fist with her thumb pinched between her index and middle finger, feigning a shocked expression.

"Uh oh, looks like I got your nose!"

Blair tilted his head back and laughed. "You're right, my dear. Some things never change. You've always known how to bring a smile to my face. Speaking of which, I'll be taking that back now."

He pretended to pluck her thumb (his pretend nose) from her grasp, only to come away with a beautiful blue flower, which he tucked into Miandra's hair, just above her ear. Mia blushed as he brought a gloved hand to her cheek.

"Tonight, I'll be seen walking arm-in-arm with the most beautiful young woman in all of Dizgaia, and people will say, ' _Who is that entrancing young woman walking with The Dreamfinder?'_ And I will be too frightened to tell them you're my daughter for fear some handsome rogue will snatch you up and steal you away from me."

"That'll never happen," Mia muttered, averting her gaze embarrassedly.

Blair smiled another bittersweet smile. "A father always hopes not, but a daughter always is."

He lifted Miandra's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. With how charming her father was, Mia had to wonder if perhaps _she_ was the one who ought to be worrying about some pretty woman snatching _him_ up and taking _him_ away.

"Ahem!" Blair cleared his throat of the emotion that wished to clog it. "Now then..." He took out a pocket watch and checked the time. "Oh my! We'd better get a move on! Where _is_ that dragon? Figment!" he called. "Where in the blazes are you?"

"I'm coming, Dreamfinder! I'm coming!" Figment flew down the stairs, wearing a little black bowtie and a tiny top hat. "Lookie, lookie! The princesses gave me a dapper little hat that fits over my horns! Isn't it great? I clean up pretty well, huh?"

Mia squealed delightedly. "Aww! Look at you!" she cooed, taking him into her arms and cuddling him. "That's one dapper dragon I have!"

"Wow, wow, wow! You look so pretty, Miandra!"

"Thanks!"

Blair quickly ushered them to the car. Their particular destination was City Hall, a building in Main Street which greatly resembled a building of the same name in Disneyland on the west coast of America, but on a much grander scale. Blair led Mia and Figment inside. At the top of a long staircase, a large, mustachioed man in a cream-colored suit waited for them.

"Well, I'll be," he said in a thick, southern drawl. "Blarion Mercurial! Up and at 'em, son! Ya'll bring yourself and that be- _yoo_ -tiful daughter of yours on up here to see me!"

"It's been too long, Mr. Mayor," said Blair as they climbed the marble staircase to meet the familiar-looking man at the top.

Blair shook hands with the large man and introduced him to Mia. "Miandra, this is Mr. Eli LaBouff, the mayor of Main Street."

It didn't take Mia long to realize that the mayor was, in fact, the character of 'Big Daddy' LaBouff from Disney's _Princess and the Frog_. Mia stifled a laugh, only because it seemed so incredibly appropriate. She held out her hand for Mr. LaBouff to shake.

"It's very nice to meet you, sir. I didn't realize Main Street had a mayor. I thought that with Cerenopia being a monarchy and all..."

Mayor LaBouff let out an amiable laugh. "Well, now, I often wonder that myself. Ya' see, Cerenopia is what you might call a horse of a different color. We have a multi-tiered system of government. Though I suppose it's just as likely that those two darlin' princesses of ours just wanna give me somethin' to do to make me feel important," he said with another spirited laugh.

"I see," said Mia, chuckling along with him. "So how are we supposed to see the parade from inside City Hall?"

"I say, Blarion, your girl is sharp as a tack. Don't you worry none about that, little lady. Big Daddy's got ya'll the best seat in the house. C'mon with me now."

Mia did her best to avoid giggling and geeking out as she and Blair followed Mayor LaBouff into a large conference room. Here, close friends and associates to the mayor, as well as a few staff members and security milled about. It soon became evident just how they were to be watching the parade. A pair of large French doors opened out onto an elaborate balcony which overlooked the primary thoroughfare of Main Street.

"Oh, wow," said Mia. "It's wonderful!"

"Indeed, I say we've got a fan- _ta_ -stic view, Miss Mercurial. And might I tempt you lovely folks with some hors d'oeuvres before the show?" He gestured to a large conference table with a buffet spread catered by two familiar faces.

"Tiana!"

"Miandra! There you are! My, honey, but don't you look positively enchanting!"

Mia blushed as she embraced her friend. "Thanks. The dress was a gift from Cindy and Snow. They asked that I wear it tonight."

"I always knew those girls had good taste," said Tiana, nodding her approval. "But of course they'd have to – bein' our benevolent and stylish leaders and all. My, even your hair's done up!"

Mia giggled embarrassedly. "Yeah, I feel like a debutante."

"For all intents and purposes, you _are,_ sugar."

Naveen joined them, slinging an arm around his wife. "Yeah. I mean, everyone _is_ out there to celebrate your big return. So, I suppose this can be something of a _coming out party_ for you – a big, royally funded coming out party!"

"It's a little unsettling to be the center of attention," said Mia. "Great and all, but a little nerve wracking. I'm almost afraid I might make some sort of social or etiquette faux pa. Perhaps I need a princess to give me some advice," she said, giving Tiana a meaningful look.

Tiana waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, psh. I may technically be a princess, but I don't take on the role. I just be myself. And that's the same advice I give to you," she said, placing a hand on Mia's shoulder. "Besides, everyone here is so happy to have you back, and that won't change. Not even if you talk with a mouthful of gumbo."

"It just goes to show how much your family means to all these people," said Naveen with a wink.

"Indeed," came a voice from behind Mia. "Your family, Miss Mercurial, is highly respected."

Mia turned to face the tall gentleman with the black complexion and thin mustache whom she'd met the day the Mad Hatter and March Hare broke into Lydia's Boutique. But this evening , Special Agent Royo was not dressed in the hooded red robe he'd worn that day. Instead, he was wearing a black suit and tie.

"Myself, included," he said.

"Oh. Hello, Agent Royo," said Mia awkwardly. This guy, who may as well be a Dizgaian equivalent of the FBI or CIA, still made her nervous with his serious, no-nonsense attitude. "There's not another mirror infraction is there?"

Agent Royo offered her a small smile. The man didn't seem capable of giving a full-on smile. Just another part of his rather stoic disposition. "Not that I'm aware of. But with such a major event going on, my people are out and about tonight, making sure we won't have any incidents. That, and Mayor LaBouff invited me to this little soiree of his to make sure there are no unwanted guests."

He turned to Tiana and Naveen and his tone shifted to a less serious one. "And how are my favorite royal amphibians this evening?" he teased.

"Har har, Royo," said Naveen. "Never heard that one before."

Royo simply smiled his slight smile. "Well, I'll leave you all be. Though, if any flies start to look appetizing, I'll be over here with a counter-curse waiting." With that, Royo went off to mingle, or whatever it was he did.

Naveen glared at his retreating back. "That man... We get turned into frogs _one time_ and he never lets us live it down. I'd like to see how _he_ deals with excreting mucus from his body."

"Ew-hew-hew-eww!" Mia said, laughing.

Tiana gave Naveen a slap on the arm. "Not proper dinner conversation, honey," she scolded.

"TIAAA!!! TIA, TIA, TIA, TIA!"

Naveen winced . "Oh boy... Now we've got trouble."

An attractive and incredibly boisterous blonde woman in a dress of periwinkle pink was running towards them.

"Hey there, Lottie," said Tiana, sounding simultaneously pleased and exasperated.

The young woman threw her arms around Tiana and jumped up and down. "Oh my, but I missed you somethin' crazy while I was travelin' overseas! I bought you a souvenir. Remind me to give it to you later. Naveen! Darlin', how are you?" Lottie gave Naveen a hug and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Oh, and the Dreamfinder's here, too! Am I late? Oh, I hate bein' late! Where's the guest of honor?"

Tiana gestured to Mia. "Charlotte, this is Miandra Mercurial. Miandra, this is—"

"Oh my! Ain't you prettier than a magnolia in May! I'm Charlotte LaBouff," she said, shaking Mia's hand energetically. "I'm sure you've met Big Daddy already. Let me just say that we are _so_ excited for your return, Miandra! Though I'm surprised you ain't in the parade yourself! I'm sure Daddy coulda' arranged the loveliest little float for you!"

"That's okay," said Mia, feeling as though she was suffering from whiplash. "I'd rather just watch it. Honest."

"I hope you guys didn't start without us," said a familiar voice. "If you're already out of gumbo, I'm going to be seriously depressed."

Cindy and Snow stood in the doorway, flanked by Baarsdal and Dufin.

Mayor LaBouff looked aghast, and it was soon revealed why. He clapped one of his subordinates – a small bespectacled man with a large nose – on the back, sending him stumbling forwards.

"Wilkins! I say, didn't I tell you that you were to announce the princesses when they arrived? Up and at 'em, son!"

Wilkins pushed his glasses, which had gone askew, back up the bridge of his nose. With trumpet in hand, he scurried forward to receive the princesses. He blew a little fanfare on the trumpet and then announced for all those present to hear: "Their royal highnesses, Princess Cynthia Whitehall and Princess Snow Whitehall!"

Cindy and Snow exchanged embarrassed glances.

"Honestly, Mr. LaBouff," said Cindy. "You really don't have to announce us so formally."

"Nonsense!" the mayor bellowed happily, kissing the back of each princess's hand. "Our royal highnesses should be received with the utmost respect!"

"Hey, guys," said Mia, greeting her two friends with a hug each.

"Miandra! You look beautiful!" said Cindy, embracing her and kissing her on the cheek.

"Didn't I tell you she'd look good in that dress, Cindy? Didn't I?"

"I never doubted it," said Cindy.

"How about it, Bashful?" said Snow, gazing down at her dwarven companion. "Doesn't Miandra look pretty?"

"Uh, w-well, I... That is, um... She... She's very... um..."

"Oh, come on, Bashful," said Snow. "Miandra's going to think you don't think she looks pretty in her new dress."

"Y-You... You look v-very b-b-beautiful, Miandra," Barsdaal finally blurted out.

It was the longest string of words he'd spoken to her at one time, and so Mia felt she should reward him with a compliment in turn.

"Thanks, Barsdaal. You look very nice, too."

But perhaps this was a mistake, for Barsdaal turned as red as a beet and buried his face in his beard, sending Dufin into stitches.

Everyone else in turn greeted the princesses in their own way. Tiana and Cindy embraced like old friends. Even Lottie was excited to see Snow and incessantly questioned her about the upcoming tournament at the Kingstone Garden Party in Paridon. Any time Snow opened her mouth to reply, Lottie cut her off to ask more questions that she would never get the answers to. Snow looked like she was about at the end of her rope and ready to give Lottie a piece of her mind when Cindy elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

"Be nice," she hissed at her sister.

Now with everyone present, they all tucked into the appetizers, the most popular of which, of course, was Tiana's House Gumbo.

"Mmm! Honestly, Tiana," said Snow. "I wish you'd come cook for us in the castle. Not even a staff of gourmet chefs from around the globe can cook like you!"

"Thanks but no thanks, Snow," said Tiana with a laugh. "I'm far too in love with the restaurant to give it up. 'Sides, if you ate my gumbo every day the way you are now, I'm afraid I may be single-handedly responsible for the downfall of Cerenopia's Kingstone Garden Party champion. It ain't easy keeping that kind of a body when you're chowing down on some good soul food, sugar."

"Good point," said Snow, "But when I get old and retire, I want to eat this stuff every day!"

Great food, fellowship, and lighthearted chatter filled Mia with a sort of peaceful satisfaction. She sat back in her chair, watching her friends interact with one another and marveling at the amazingly diverse and generous group of people she was so lucky to have met. Soon, their chatter died down as the sound of the gathering crowd reached their ears from the open balcony doors.

"It would seem your public awaits, Miandra," said Cindy with a smile. "I suppose it's time we begin the festivities."

"That's right! C'mon then," said the mayor, gesturing his guests over to the large balcony which overlooked Main Street. "Time's a wastin'. We're gonna get this shindig under way!"

Smiling, Blair offered Miandra his arm. "Shall we, dear?"

"Yeah! Yeah!" Figment cried excitedly, fluttering around their heads. "Let's go! We don't wanna miss it!"

Blair escorted his daughter to the balcony. Big Daddy, Lottie, Tiana, Naveen, the sisters, and even Agent Royo followed. There was already a huge crowd gathered in the street below, leaving a wide space down the center of Main Street's main street for parade floats to travel. Mia also noticed some sort of drone hovering in front of the balcony.

Cindy and Snow stood at the head of the balcony, beckoning Mia towards them. She didn't like where this was going. It seemed like she was about to be put in the spotlight. Hesitantly, Mia joined them at their side. Cindy held a cordless microphone. She turned to face the drone, and that's when Mia realized there was a giant holographic screen hovering high over the streets of Main Street, and there, displayed for all to see, was Cindy, Snow, and Mia.

Mia gulped nervously. _Oh boy..._

Cindy spoke into the microphone and her voice rang out clear across Main Street. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, thank you all for coming out to celebrate with us tonight. And, indeed, there is much reason for celebration. As you all may well know, the Dreamfinder's daughter has returned to Dizgaia!"

There was an eruption of applause and Snow grabbed Cindy's hand, pulling the microphone towards her mouth while wrapping an arm across Mia's shoulders and pulling her in closer.

"And isn't she just adorable, ladies and gentlemen?"

Mia blushed. "S-Snow..." she mumbled embarrassedly. Miandra's face was going to be as widely recognized as her father's was, after this.

Cindy yanked the microphone away from her sister. "Really, Snow! Don't embarrass her!"

But the people below were laughing good humoredly, clapping and cheering.

"Without further ado," said Cindy, "Let the parade commence!"

At her order, the holographic screen disappeared and all the lights in Main Street went out, plunging the city into darkness. A synthesized musical score began to play. It reminded Mia a little of a tune from a 1980s science fiction film. Suddenly, the street below City Hall was illuminated in bright, white light by a vehicle which resembled something of a futuristic spaceship. A fog machine pumped out thick clouds of mist for a special effect.

A hatch opened at the top of the spaceship and a platform rose up from inside. Standing on the platform were a bunch of figures dressed in ominously dark, futuristic attire. In the middle of them all stood an attractive, almost effeminate man of indeterminate age. His skin was a smooth, pleasing mocha and his wavy black hair hung to his shoulders. His attire was concealed beneath a ragged brown cloak. A strange, stubby creature sat on his shoulder.

Mia had never seen anything quite like this creature. It had bright red fur and its features were somewhere between simian and feline. It had a pair of colorful butterfly wings on its back and a long tail akin to that of a possum. The man upon whose shoulder the winged creature sat gazed up at the balcony and looked directly at Mia. She placed her hands on the balcony railing and leaned forward, entranced by the handsome but curious spaceman.

People in the streets were cheering. One look at this man, and they seemed to know exactly who he was. But at the moment, the man only had eyes for Mia. He spoke, and his soft, gentle voice was amplified via a small microphone headset.

"Miandra Mercurial... We've all been waiting for you to come home. Tonight, I come to bring a gift to someone as beautiful as you. This gift, you will not only see, Miandra..." His hands came out from under his cloak revealing a pair of long, white leather gloves as he pointed to his ears. "But hear."

Mia blushed, trying to remind herself that people would flatter her just because she was the Dreamfinder's daughter and not to let it go to her head. But the man, effeminate or not, was positively enchanting, and she already felt herself growing giddy with anticipation to see exactly what he meant by a giftthat she could hear.

The man thrust a single hand into the air. The small red creature fluttered off his shoulder and began flying circles around the elaborate parade stage. Throwing off his raggedy cloak, the man revealed an outfit that was both eccentric and sexy – a wardrobe consisting of a white leather jacket, matching pants, and boots. Across his torso, he wore a pair of cross-belts with rainbow colored accents. The ominous figures surrounding him all jumped back, looking as though they were ready to do battle with him.

A musical score which sounded remarkably like a 1980s pop song began to play as the man on stage commenced a one-man dance routine. His eyes returned to Mia as he sang:

"We're on a mission  
In the everlasting light that shines  
A revelation  
Of the truth in chapters of our minds!

So long, bad times  
We're gonna shake it up and break it up  
We're sharing light brighter than the sun  
Hello, good times  
We're here to stimulate, eliminate  
An' congregate, illuminate!"

On the word, _illuminate,_ the man thrust his arms out at his sides, tilting his head back. Mia gasped as rainbow-colored light, not too dissimilar from Blair's Imaginergy, flowed from the man's palms. It shot out, encircling the ominous figures. Their dark attire melted away, revealing normal people underneath, all garbed in multicolored outfits. Then, they joined the man in his dance routine as his backup singers.

"We are here to change the world!" they sang.

"Gonna change the world!" echoed the man.

"We are here to change the world!"

"Gonna change the world, Ooo!"

Mia leaned even closer, as though in a trance. "Who _is_ that guy?' she asked, now leaning so far over the balcony railing that Cindy and Snow had to pull her back for fear she'd tumble over.

"That's Captain EO," said Cindy. "Dizgaia's greatest pop idol."

"He's... amazing..." Mia murmured.

Cindy and Snow exchanged glances.

"Typical," said Snow, grinning.

"Perhaps it was a bit much to invite Captain EO," said Cindy. "After all, the effect he has on women... It's almost dangerous."

"Just wait till he starts pelvic thrusting," laughed Snow.

"Keep a hold on her," Cindy warned as Mia again leaned out over the balcony as though magnetically drawn to the man singing below.

Meanwhile, Naveen and Tiana were doing their best to keep a hold of Lottie who was halfway over the balcony railing, waving exuberantly at Captain EO and shouting, "OH MY GAWD! CAPTAIN EO!!! I LOVE YOU! MARRY ME, CAPTAIN EO!!!"

Mayor LaBouff chuckled. "A high-spirited filly, my little Lottie, ain't she?" he said proudly.

Naveen shot him a glare over his shoulder. "You could help us, you know!"

Mayor LaBouff quickly joined Naveen and Tiana in extracting his daughter from the railing. Below, Captain EO continued his dance routine before thrusting his hands up towards the small red creature flying overhead. A beam of rainbow energy engulfed the little fuzzball, and the creature took off, flying over the heads of the crowd amidst the cheers, spreading dazzling rainbow light which seemed to fill everyone it touched with absolute joy, faith, and hope for the future. The song continued.

"So do surrender  
'Cause the power's deep inside my soul  
Sing it!"

The crowd, illuminated by the rainbow light, sang along with the backup singers' lines.

"We are here to change the world!"

"Gonna change the world! Sing it!"

"We are here to change the world!"

"Gonna change the world, Ooo!"

The fuzzy creature, still aglow with rainbow energy, fluttered over the balcony and engulfed Mia and her friends in the same intoxicating light. Mia could feel a warm tingling radiating throughout her entire being. Figment flew to the edge of the balcony and extended a tiny clawed hand. With a cat-like smile, the furry red creature slapped his tail playfully against Figment's hand in a sort of high five before flying back down to the stage below.

"We are here to change the world!'

"We're gonna change the world, girl!"

EO motioned up at Mia, and she flushed scarlet.

"We are here to change the world!"

"My brothers and sisters  
We're gonna change the world!"

"We are here to change the world!"

"Deep down in my body!  
Deep down in my soul, baby!"

"We are here to change the world!"

"We're gonna change the world! OOOO!!!"

With that last 'Oooo!' the performance was over. The crowd was going absolutely bananas. Blair stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing down at the charismatic pop idol. With something of a knowing smile, he tipped his hat to Captain EO, who in turn gave The Dreamfinder a small salute.

As the small red creature alighted upon his shoulder once more, Captain EO gave Mia another smile, a smile that could win over the hearts of anyone he encountered.

"Welcome home, Miandra Mercurial!"

Mia practically melted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * We Are Here To Change The World ~ copyright Michael Jackson, Disney's Captain EO


	19. Tomorrow's Child

Although the smile Captain EO gave her at the end of his song nearly made her swoon, Mia had the presence of mind – after much applauding and cheering – to ask of her father, "Is he... Captain EO, that is... Is he like _you_?"

"His magic _is_ genuine and not simply a showman's trick," said Blair "In a way, I suppose Captain EO is very much like me."

"But nowhere near as powerful," spoke Agent Royo from behind them. "EO's magic doesn't even scratch the surface of what your father has done... and _can_ do."

Mia turned her gaze to Blair in newfound admiration. "Wow. You're just... amazing!"

How any father could resist a daughter who smiled at him like that was beyond anyone's comprehension. Blair, normally a very humble man in spite of his talents, felt himself basking in the glow of his daughter's admiration. This girl could turn an otherwise humble man into a show-off in no time. However, he tried his best to keep a modest mindset.

"I thank you for the high praise, Agent Royo. But I _do_ try not to let such things go to my head," he said, smiling at his daughter and directing her attention to the street below. EO's spaceship float had moved on and the parade was officially underway.

The parade began with a familiar synthesized musical score as a series of floats, automatons, and people on foot took the journey down Main Street, all of them decked out in multicolored lights which glowed brilliantly in the dark night. LED, neon, flickering bulbs, and a plethora of other light forms illuminated the streets as the electrical parade made its way through the town.

"Remember how I've mentioned that there are some things that the people of Dizgaia took from Earth?" said Blair. "Well, I'm sure you can tell, _this_ concept is one of them."

"Like the electrical parade in Disney," Mia murmured, watching, mesmerized by the parade which, while reminiscent of the nighttime parade at Disney World, was far more expansive and magical. This one was exponentially greater, to almost impossible proportions, for this one possessed true magic combined with technology which could only be found in Dizgaia.

The parade rolled down Main Street's main street, showing off the wondrous displays created by the Imagineers of the Imagination Institute and the Main Street Celebration Committee. Beyond just the illuminated parade floats, Mia was able to pick out specific contributions from various Imagineers. The first was a parade float with a group of illuminated, color-changing Baymax units all waving to the crowd.

"Oh, cool! That must be Tadashi's!"

The Baymax units reminded Mia of Christmas lights and the way they were synchronized to run back and forth through a spectrum of colors.

Next, a minivan covered with solar panels drove slowly down the street with its back hatch open. A laser beam shot out from the back of the van, making the parade float behind it shrink down so small as to be unseen, and then grow to immense proportions, back and forth.

"Oh, look! Look! They're shrinking and growing! That must be that Wayne Sa-Sa... Uh, the guy from _Honey, I Shrunk the Kids._ "

"Szalinski!" said Figment.

"Bless you."

There was even a fleet of tiny cars driven by little old men. They reminded Mia of the Shriners in parades on Earth, only these cars were making popping noises as they flew through the air, doing swirling maneuvers and aerial tricks.

"Ah. That would be Professor Brainard's Flubber at work," said Blair. "An ingenious creation, if I do say so myself."

Mia was fully stimulated by all the lights, sounds, colors, and scientific marvels put on display for her. "This is so cool!" she said.

There was so much to see, and although it was not a short parade by any means, it all seemed to be nearing its end so quickly. Mia supposed this was because it never once grew dull and she'd been fully engaged the entire time. Everything was just so wonderful. Time really did fly when one was having fun. However, something was depressing her. There was one float by a particular Imagineer that had yet to make an appearance, even though the parade was very nearly at its end.

Mia was rather hurt. Did Flynn really decline to participate in the parade? But perhaps this was to be expected. After all, she'd been giving him the cold shoulder lately. Why would he want to do anything nice for her? Mia tried to push these thoughts out of her head. There was one parade float left, and she owed it to the creator of the float to give it her full attention and do her best to enjoy it.

This float was of particular interest to Mia, as it had the most interesting aesthetics of all the floats by far. It looked like another mobile performance stage, much like Captain EO's had been, only this one was multi-tiered with railings that looked like the bars on a sheet of music. Each tiered stage of the float was made of a shining, silvery platform like the one in the center of the Imagination Institute's cafeteria. This float must belong to none other than Bonnie Appetite. And sure enough, there she was, standing on the top tier in a tasteful yet sexy form-fitting dress of sparkling blue. Mia stole a glance at her father to see what he made of it and tried not to grin too much at his expression.

"Bonnie?" he murmured aloud, leaning closer to the railing.

As the float came to a stop in front of City Hall, Mia noticed something else about it. Glowing circuit-like streaks of pale blue ran continuously across the stage, almost like they did in the Game Grid. Mia leaned closer to the balcony railing.

"Flynn?"

Now it became clear. This wasn't _just_ Bonnie's float.

Blair's eyes moved over the incredible float, which had stationed itself where everyone could see it. It would seem this was to be the finale. The silvery platforms illuminated, projecting a choir of fancily-dressed holographic children. These holo children were far less creepy than the cookware Bonnie was known to perform alongside during Kitchen Kabaret. In fact, they were downright charming.

"Aww..." Mia cooed. "How sweet!"

But what happened next stole her attention away from the holographic children. From the forefront of the stage, a black disc with a glowing blue rim shot straight into the air. In a flurry of blue pixels, a man materialized right there on the float.

"Hey, it's Tron!" Mia exclaimed.

The digital hero landed on his feet, sliding the disc onto his back. There was something different about Tron tonight. In place of his typical garb, he wore a white, formfitting, coat-tailed suit with glowing blue highlights. It was an outfit not too dissimilar to that worn by the character, Castor, from _Tron Legacy._ Only, Tron made it look damn good. In fact, he almost looked like a prince. He gazed up at the balcony with his glowing blue eyes and a small smile appeared on his face as he motioned to Bonnie and spoke in an amplified voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Bonnie Appetite!"

Mia applauded with the rest of the crowd, already excited for what was no doubt to be an excellent performance. Bonnie gazed up at the balcony where Mia stood with her father.

"Miandra Mercurial... When you were born, the world smiled upon you. With a spark to rival your father's, you were a beacon of hope and inspiration to many the world over. The Mercurial legacy lives on, and with it, our hope for a better and brighter tomorrow."

Mia blushed. Bonnie's words were warm, kind, and more than flattering. Mia was almost embarrassed. She wasn't sure she deserved such adoration, even if she _was_ Blarion Mercurial's daughter. But soon, all thoughts of whether or not she was worthy slipped away as a beautiful, haunting melody started to play. Bonnie sang into her microphone headset as she conducted the holographic children's choir.

"Tomorrow's child..."

_"Tomorrow's child..."_ the children echoed sweetly.

"Gathering gifts from our past. Tomorrow's child..."

_"Tomorrow's Child..."_

"Shaping a world that will last  
Holding the spark  
As we embark  
On a great journey  
Together we're learning to reach  
For hope and desire  
Building a world to inspire..."

Blair found himself drawn to Bonnie in a way he hadn't ever considered before, watching the lovely woman more intently than he'd previously done during her Kitchen Kabaret performance. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he heard her sing the lyrics she'd written as a gift to celebrate the birth of the Mercurial family's first and only child. A warm smile came to his face as he wrapped an arm around his precious daughter and held her close.

It was a beautiful song, with Bonnie's lovely voice and the haunting melody sung by the holo children. Mia already adored it, but she wondered what this had to do with Flynn and why Tron was present for this. She soon got her answer as two metallic railing-like structures rose slowly from the float towards the edge of the balcony. A light ribbon like those produced by the Light Cycles in the Game Grid illuminated between the apparatuses, forming a glowing, translucent staircase.

Tron made his way up the light ribbon staircase and stopped in front of Mia. A glowing platform resembling the one from the Ring Game materialized behind him, hovering high above the parade. With a debonair smile, Tron extended his hand to Mia. Entranced, Mia reached for him, then hesitated.

"Uh, wh-where are we going?" she asked nervously.

"Well, if you'll have me," said Tron, "I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of a dance." As he spoke, a translucent walkway appeared between the hovering ring platform and the staircase.

This time, Tron extended both of his hands to Mia, offering to help her step over the railing of the balcony. Bonnie's singing was silent for the moment, but an instrumental continued along with the soft humming of the holographic children.

Tron tilted his head, smiling. "Please?"

Mia glanced nervously between her father and the princesses. Cindy, Snow, and Tiana smiled and nodded at her while Lottie gave her own brand of encouragement.

"Good gracious, honey! Don't be a nervous young filly! Dance with the glowin' man!"

Tron's gaze didn't falter. He looked to no one but Mia. Swallowing nervously, Mia took both his hands and allowed him to assist her over the balcony and onto the light ribbon. She almost stumbled, wrapping her arms around him tightly, afraid she might fall through. It was one thing in the Grid, but out here in the real world...

"Y-You won't let me fall, right?" she asked as Tron escorted her across the light-ribbon walkway to the platform.

"Never."

Despite her fears that she might fall through it, Mia discovered that it was completely solid. Gazing down, she saw that both the light ribbon and the ring platform were being emitted by some device below them, attached to the parade float. Somehow, amazingly, technology from Flynn's Grid was fully functional here in the real world.

The ring platform was a plain, luminescent white, but as Tron and Mia stepped onto it, the color changed. Pulses of rainbow light rippled out across the rings with each step they took. Tron led Mia to the center of the platform. He took her hand in his and placed his other hand on her hip. Mia was unable to stop the blush which spread across her cheeks.

_He's just a program, Mia. Calm down._

But for a program, he looked so handsome and charming right now, like a prince out of a fairytale. Tron stood still, awaiting his cue. The instrumental gave way to Bonnie's beautiful voice and the choir of holographic children.

"Tomorrow's child  
Tomorrow's child  
Charting a brand-new way  
For the future world is born today..."

_"Born today..."_

Tron began to lead Mia in a ballroom-style dance around the platform. Mia gazed down at her feet and watched how, with every step, the rainbow energy rippled like rings on the surface of water, as though someone had skipped a stone across it. It was all so mesmerizing. However, her eyes were soon recaptured by the glowing blue eyes of Tron and held there as he smiled at her.

Mia gulped, looking for something to say. "I didn't realize you could dance, Tron. You're just full of surprises. I must look really clumsy in comparison."

"Clumsy? Not at all."

Mia blushed and murmured a demure, "Thank you."

Tron simply continued to smile as he danced flawlessly. He gave Mia a graceful twirl and pulled her back to him. Mia tried not to think about how many people were watching her right now. She was practically on display for everyone to see. But at the moment, she only had eyes for her dance partner.

"Was this really Flynn's idea?" she asked. "I mean, why doesn't _he_ just do all this?"

"This was Flynn's idea, yes. The only reason he isn't out here himself is because he says he isn't a strong dancer. And... I think he was also too nervous. But you didn't hear that from me."

Mia's lips quirked in a small smile. It was both surprising and amusing to see Tron pushing the limits of his programming to give her the scoop on Flynn and then joke about not hearing it from him. Although there was a part of her that wished Flynn could've been the one to be out here with her, what Tron said made sense.

It was hard to picture Flynn dancing like a prince at a ball. Still, the fact that he'd obviously arranged all this for her... It was a beautiful gesture, perhaps themost beautiful gesture anyone had ever made to her. She felt like a princess dancing with a handsome coat-tailed Tron on a hovering rainbow platform high above the ground. Actually, she probably shouldn't think about how high up they were.

Blair watched from the balcony, smiling proudly as his daughter danced with Tron on the floating platform. So, this was how Flynn intended to make good with Miandra after their falling out. Blair had to admit, it was a very creative apology, and a beautiful one at that. And even Bonnie was in on it. The two had collaborated to create what Blair knew would become one of Miandra's most precious memories. His eyes moved to Bonnie as she continued to lead the holographic choir in song.

Bonnie's singing was breathtaking in a way he'd never quite noticed before. He'd always known she was a talented songstress, but listening to her now... he had never quite felt this way before. With the soft glowing light of the parade float, and that lovely blue dress practically sparkling against her body, Blair was starting to see Bonnie as something more than just a wonderful singer, skilled chef, and good friend. For the first time ever, he was starting to see her as a woman.

"Tomorrow's child  
Lighting the path as we're going..."

_"Tomorrow' child..."_

"Tomorrow's child  
Seeing that knowledge keeps growing..."

_"Tomorrow's child..."_

Mia was slowly becoming lost in the moment, lost to the music, lost to the swaying of their bodies, falling into step on the floating platform.

"You look really handsome," she told Tron, only to silently curse herself a moment later.

_He's just a program, remember Mia?_

And yet Tron felt like so much more than that.

"Thank you, Miandra."

The stiff yet polite way Tron thanked her made her want to giggle and tease him more.

"Tron," she said almost casually as she danced a little closer to him. "Are we entirely sure Flynn thought this through? I mean, this little plan of his could backfire. What would he do if I fell for the program instead of the programmer?" she asked with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Tron tilted his head, still smiling. "Well, if you're more interested in me, then I suppose you wouldn't be interested in what comes next."

"What do you mean? What comes next?"

That's when she saw three drones rise from three different rooftops. They moved through the air in erratic patterns, leaving multicolored light ribbon trails behind. They spelled out three words in cursive writing:

_Forgive me Dreamgirl._

The words hovered in the air above the crowd for Mia and everyone else to see. The message was a personal one, not entirely understood by most, though a select few would know – the Dreamfinder among them. Blair smiled from the balcony and nodded to himself.

_Wonderful job, Flynn. Simply wonderful._

"Forgive me Dreamgirl," Mia murmured, gazing at the ribbon writing above her. Grinning, she looked at Tron. "He really means it, doesn't he?" she asked, her eyes sparkling in the parade lights.

"He does. Flynn wouldn't have gone through the trouble if he didn't."

"Is he watching us now?"

Tron nodded.

Mia leaned closer to him. "Then I guess he'll see this." She pressed her lips to Tron's in a sweet but chaste kiss.

Tron blinked as she kissed him. He hadn't been expecting it. No doubt Flynn hadn't either. But Tron didn't flinch, nor did he pull away for propriety's sake. He simply accepted the gift that was given to him. Mia pulled away, grinning.

"Give that to him, will you?"

The corner of Tron's mouth lifted in a grin. "I'll try... but I don't think it'll mean as much coming from me."

"Somehow I _knew_ you were going to say exactly that."

Mia put her arms around Tron's neck and danced closer to him as she gazed directly at the drone that was putting them up on the holographic screen for the people below to see, knowing Flynn could see her, too. Part of this was to tease Flynn; make him a little jealous, perhaps. But mostly, it was to show him that she was really enjoying the special 'princess' treatment, and to show him how much she appreciated his apology.

"Tomorrow's child  
Tomorrow's child  
Charting a brand-new way  
For the future world is born today..."

_"Born today..."_

Mia was almost surprised that Tron allowed her to dance so close. And not only did he allow it, he seemed content to hold her against him as they swayed slowly to the music. Mia wondered if there may well be a little more of Alan Bradley in Tron than even Flynn suspected. It was so easy to forget Tron was just a program, if only it weren't for his strangely hued skin and glowing blue eyes. Mia rested her head against his chest and almost drew back in shock. It almost sounded like... Did Tron have a heartbeat? The detail that Flynn put into this program was unbelievable!

Finally, the music reached its crescendo. As it drew to an end, Tron and Mia stopped their swaying. Tron took a step back from her and offered her a princely bow.

"We hope that this night has been very special for you, Miandra."

Mia felt her cheeks warming. She couldn't stop smiling. Flynn and Tron truly had made the night special. She didn't think anything could ever top this night. As Tron rose up from his bow, he took something out from inside his white, glowing suit jacket. He extended his hand, offering a glowing baton.

"Flynn said he owed you this."

Mia accepted it with a sort of reverence. "My very own Light Cycle?" she squeaked.

"He said you won it – fair and square. No questions asked."

There was something else – a red ribbon was wrapped around the baton, securing a piece of parchment to it. Slowly, Mia untied the ribbon and unrolled the note.

_Dear Dreamgirl,_

_I hope this night is one you'll always dig. Tron and Bonnie were both in on it. If you feel like a princess after your dance with that dapperly dressed program, then I can only assume that 'Operation: Please Forgive Me' was a total success! Enjoy the Light Cycle. You deserve it!_

_~ Flynn_

Mia was all smiles as she read his note. She glanced up from the paper and Tron grinned at her.

"Would you say that Flynn's plan was a success, Miandra?"

Mia glanced at the hovering holographic screen, which was currently showing a close-up of her and Tron on the ring platform. As she gazed at it, the footage zoomed in on her face, as though whoever was controlling the drone knew she was about to say something.

"All right. You get a second chance," she said to the screen, her voice echoing over Main Street. "One date. Lunch tomorrow. Tiana's Palace. Then I can forgive you properly."

The crowd below erupted into cheers and applause. After her dance with Tron, it had become obvious to many the identity of the apologetic party who arranged this. And it seemed everyone in Main Street gave their full support. Even Blair was smiling, pleased that Miandra and Flynn were able to work out their differences. Granted, as her father, he also felt a little embarrassed that her love life was being put on display like this, but the moment was too strong not to get caught up in. Besides, it wasn't Flynn's fault. He hadn't asked Miandra to address him publicly, but she clearly felt compelled to do so all the same. This night had been so special for her, all because of Flynn, and he deserved to know it.

The wonderful moment came to a sudden, screeching halt as the holographic jumbotron was suddenly hijacked. The footage glitched out and fizzled and became distorted. When it fixed itself, an ominous figure replaced Mia and Tron on the screen. Mia gasped at the familiar face. Then again, perhaps 'familiar face' was the wrong terminology, for the person in question wore a mask – a red and white kabuki mask.

"That's the villain from Big Hero 6," Mia murmured. "Callaghan or something." She glanced at Tron. "Didn't he go to jail?"

Tron looked at Mia, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Callaghan? What are you talking—"

"Citizens of Main Street," said the figure in a digitally modified voice. "May I have your attention?"

From the balcony, Agent Royo produced a glowing sphere in the palm of his hand. "This is Royo," he spoke into it. "All agents, find out where that's coming from!"

Figment hovered closer to Blair at the sight of the mysterious masked figure. "That's not part of the parade, is it, Dreamfinder?"

Blair had no answer for his dragon companion. Instead, his wide eyes were trained on the man on the screen, then back at his daughter, stationed so precariously on the floating platform.

The modulated voice spoke once more, echoing across Main Street. "You all foolishly stand around, celebrating meaningless occasions, blissfully unaware of the injustice being carried out before you. Instead of allowing their discoveries and creations to be utilized by those deserving of them, these fools you call _Imagineers_ are creating parade attractions. Such wasted potential! I am Yokai. And in my eyes, Imagineers, your wasted creations are forfeit!" The screen fizzled out, then vanished completely.

Frightened murmurs arose from the crowd below. It was clear that no one knew who this Yokai was, and the name Callaghan didn't seem to ring a bell with Tron. _Was_ this alleged 'Yokai' Robert Callaghan from the Big Hero 6 movie? If no one knew that name, then perhaps the events of that movie hadn't happened yet. After all, Tadashi was still alive.

_But that's not how it works,_ Mia reminded herself. _The Disney movies on Earth don't predict things that are going to happen on Dizgaia. They're inspired by things that have already happened, and in some cases, certain stories and characters are different or completely nonexistent._

In that case, who – or what – was this Yokai?

Mia sidled closer to Tron. "O-kaaay... That was a little disturbing. Please tell me that guy was just trolling us and isn't some sort of super vill—"

"MIANDRA! LOOK OUT!"

She looked up just in time to see a giant fist-like object plummeting down towards them from a nearby rooftop. Tron wrapped his arms around her and leapt from the ring platform and onto the light ribbon walkway just as the giant first slammed through the rings, causing them to fizzle out of existence.

Mia lay on the light ribbon walkway, wrapped in Tron's arms, who'd taken the brunt of the fall. She felt several hard, tiny objects pelting her on the arms and face. She opened her eyes to see that they were little microbots which had broken apart on impact but were now quickly flying back to the giant fist which was plummeting down towards the parade float.

"Oh my God! Bonnie!" Mia shouted.

On the balcony, Blair tensed, thanking every deity he could think of that Tron had protected his daughter. But at the sound of Miandra's shout, his gaze flicked down towards the parade float. The fist slammed into the center of the float. The holographic children cried out in fear before fizzling out of existence as the projector stages were shattered. Bonnie lost her footing and fell from the top tier, screaming.

"NO!!!" Blair thrust his hands out in front of him, and with a fizzle, crackle, and loud pop, Bonnie was suddenly encased within a rainbow-hued bubble, which stopped her descent.

People were running and screaming like a panicked stampede through the streets. If left there, Bonnie may well be trampled. Blair waved his hands upwards and the bubble rose, floating safely up to the balcony. With a gentle pop, Bonnie was released, landing lightly upon her feet.

"Bonnie, are you hurt?"

Bonnie threw herself into his arms, trembling and sobbing. Blair held her close, trying to comfort her while also trying to think of a way to help his daughter. For the moment, Mia was safe on the light ribbon trail which connected the balcony to the recently destroyed ring platform. But not for much longer.

Tron rose to his feet, placing himself between Mia and impending danger. "Miandra! Get on the balcony! Hurry before—"

Suddenly, the masked figure appeared, riding a wave of microbots over the rooftops. With a thrust of his fist, Yokai sent a massive battering ram into Tron, knocking him off the walkway.

"TRON!" Mia screamed as he plummeted off the light ribbon.

As Tron fell towards the ground, his princely attire disappeared, returning to his traditional black suit, the T-shape re-illuminating on his chest. He tumbled in midair and landed on the ground in a crouch. A wave of microbots engulfed the parade float and the light ribbon emitter, causing the light ribbon above to flicker.

"MIANDRA!"

Tron drew his disc from his back, activating its razor edge and threw it towards the wave of microbots, hoping to stop it from destroying the light ribbon emitter. The microbots scattered apart only to immediately reform and continue their work on the parade float. Tron looked up. Miandra was in trouble and he was too far away to help! He summoned his energy for a great leap back to the light ribbon pathway, but the masked villain charged at him, disrupting his concentration. Tron leapt out of the way, dodging another attack. His eyes narrowed.

"After me, specifically, then, are you?"

He threw his disc at Yokai, but the villain veered out of its path and it returned to Tron's hand. Yokai lifted his arms and thrust them towards Tron, creating spiked tendrils with which to pierce the defiant program. But with another throw, Tron sent his disc hurtling towards the spikes. The glowing razor edge sliced through them, sending microbots clattering everywhere. Tron made another attempt at leaping to Mia's rescue, but another battering ram of microbots smashed into him, sending him flying several feet.

The translucent pathway beneath Mia was flickering like crazy, threatening to vanish at any moment. Mia scrambled to her feet and made a mad dash for the balcony, but it was still so far away. She could see her family and friends gazing in horror from the balcony. Tiana was reaching out her hand. Cindy was trying to climb over the balcony in an attempt to come to her aid, but Snow and Agent Royo were holding her back.

"Princess!"

"Cindy, you won't make it!"

"Let go!" Cindy shouted. "MIANDRA!"

"HURRY, DEAR!" Blair screamed. "OH, FOR GOD'S LOVE! HURRY! RUN, MIANDRA! RUN!"

Mia ran harder. The light ribbon was flickering more rapidly now. She wasn't going to make it!

Then, she had a crazy idea.

As she ran, Mia pressed a button on the white baton, activating the Light Cycle. She felt that familiar pulling sensation as she was dragged forward onto a sleek white bike which materialized around her. With the roar of a digital engine, the bike rushed onward. There was no need to wave the others aside. They saw her coming and moved to opposite ends of the balcony to make way for her. There was the railing to consider, but as fast as she was going, she was likely to jump it.

_I've got this, I've got this! I'm going to make it!_

She was wrong.

The pathway blipped out suddenly. The Light Cycle's momentum carried it a few feet through the air before it plummeted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Tomorrow's Child ~ Ron Ovadia and Peter Stougaard, EPCOT's Spaceship Earth


	20. Yokai and the Battle for Tron

She was falling.

She was going to die.

Mia had just enough time to think, _Maybe the Light Cycle will help cushion my fall. Maybe I'll only be gravely injured._

But in all likelihood, it seemed that this was the end – a unique but horribly tragic way to die at the young age of 19, before she'd really gotten the chance to truly live. She closed her eyes, not wanting to bear witness to her inevitable demise.

"OH NO!" cried Figment. "MIANDRA!"

He flew over the balcony to try to do... something. But really, what could he do? If he were a full-sized dragon, he could swoop beneath her and catch her on his back or in his claws. But there was not enough time to make the transformation. Still, he had to try something! But what?

A fuzzy red streak flew past him, glowing with borrowed rainbow energy. The little creature zoomed beneath the falling bike, laying a track of rainbow light.

"Hey! Fuzzball!" Figment cried delightedly.

The Light Cycle gave a jolt as it landed. Mia felt a smooth surface under its wheels. This was not what falling hundreds of feet to the ground should feel like. She opened her eyes, risking a peek. The Light Cycle was riding along a rainbow track, which was being laid by the strange creature that had accompanied Captain EO. Its butterfly wings carried the curious feline-monkey hybrid through the air just ahead of the Light Cycle, leaving the rainbow trail in its wake.

Mia let out the breath she was holding. Her heart rate began to slow as she realized she wasn't about to die. She followed the rainbow track, and the funny little creature, down to the ground. The Light Cycle screeched to a halt on the cobblestone. The creature hovered in front of her and let out an inquiring squeak, tilting its head as though trying to decipher if she was okay. Mia grabbed him and hugged him against her, planting a kiss against his furry little forehead.

"I don't know what the hell you are, but I LOVE YOU!" she cried.

The little creature gave a delighted squeak followed by a purr. Then, much like any cat who's had his fill of cuddling, he wriggled free from Mia's grasp and flew to his master, alighting upon Captain EO's shoulder. The captain reached up and scratched the creature's fuzzy cheek.

"Nice work, Fuzzball."

Fuzzball let out a little 'prrrp' sound. EO's heavily painted eyes moved to Mia. "Are you all right, Miandra? You're not hurt?"

Mia rose from her bike. The Light Cycle disappeared in a collection of pixels and the white baton returned to her hand. Slowly, Mia took a couple shaky steps towards Captain EO. Now that she was safely on the ground, the reality of what had almost befallen her came crashing down around her. Mia ran to EO and hugged him tightly.

"You saved my life," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "There's nothing I could ever, _ever_ do to thank you enough."

A gloved hand took her chin and tilted her head up. "Your smile is all the thanks I need," said Captain EO in his soft, gentle voice.

Meanwhile, the battle between Tron and Yokai raged on. Tron repeatedly flung his disc at the microbots, but it seemed a futile effort, for every time he sent them scattering, they quickly rejoined once more, refueling Yokai's arsenal.

"I didn't want to hurt you," said Tron, "But you leave me no choice. The only way to stop these things is by stopping _you._ " He threw his disc at Yokai, but Yokai dodged, riding his wave of microbots as he sent more at Tron.

Tron dodged his attacks, and, instead, the concentrated mass of microbots slammed into nearby buildings, shattering windows, cracking walls, and resulting in collateral damage. With another throw of his disc, Tron nearly hit Yokai in the face, but Yokai smacked it away with a giant hand-shaped mass of microbots. He threw out his arm and made a fist . The giant microbot hand did the same, grabbing Tron and squeezing him tightly.

"You're in trouble, Program! Now make it easy on yourself! Give up or it's... End of Line for you."

Tron's glowing blue eyes narrowed and he clenched his teeth. "N-No! I... I fight... for the utopia! I will NOT QUIT!"

Yokai tilted his head and the red kabuki stripes on his mask began to glow. "Suit yourself..." A glowing charge pulsed through the microbots as they squeezed Tron.

Mia and Captain EO spun around at the sound of an echoing, static-filled scream. Tron was being held in the grasp of a giant microbot fist, which was giving off a malignant red glow. The microbots had another function they didn't possess in the Big Hero 6 movie. They seemed to be giving off some sort of EMP wave, one which was slowly derezzing Tron! The captured program let out another pained scream as his glowing highlights began to flicker.

Mia gasped. "He's killing him!"

She hadn't said derezzing, but killing. For in Mia's mind, Tron was so much more than a program. She glanced, panic-stricken, at Captain EO.

"Please! Help me save him!"

She didn't wait for EO's reply. Mia grabbed a piece of debris from the destroyed float. With a cry of rage, she threw it as hard as she could at Yokai's head. The debris only nicked him, but it was enough to break his concentration.

"LET HIM GO!" Mia shouted.

With a flick of his wrist, Yokai tossed Tron into a nearby building. The heroic program slammed into the bricks and dropped to the ground. Mia gasped. It looked as though someone had sliced Tron up; he had several jagged, glowing gashes in his body. He lay there helplessly, his disc having never returned after his last throw.

Yokai rode the wave of microbots towards Mia. "You shouldn't interfere in my affairs, girl!"

Mia took a nervous step back, wishing she'd grabbed another weapon. Now, she was at the masked villain's mercy. But EO stepped in front of her, shielding her from Yokai. His hands were at his sides, glowing with rainbow energy.

"You're the one interfering!" he told Yokai. "This special night was to honor her, and your wicked ways have trespassed on this wonderful event! It's time for you to learn what the power of positivity can do!"

Mia winced, embarrassed for EO. She didn't exactly think the power of positivity was going to be any help in this situation. Yokai didn't seem to think so either, for he thrust a giant microbot battering ram at them. Mia cried out and buried her face into EO's shoulder blade, hugging him from behind as she braced for impact. With a mellifluous shout, EO thrust his hands out in front of him. A rainbow energy beam shot from his outstretched hands and dispersed the microbots, obliterating Yokai's battering ram.

Yokai seemed just as surprised as Mia. "What?!"

Captain EO glanced over his shoulder at Mia with a smile that female fans would kill for.

Mia smiled back. "I'll never mock the power of positivity again," she told him.

"I'm tired of playing with children!" Yokai shouted.

With an upwards thrust of his hand, microbots swarmed around Mia and EO's feet and pushed them into the air like a giant geyser, lifting them higher and higher off the ground. EO held tightly to Mia to ensure she wouldn't fall from the gigantic microbot geyser.

"HANG ONTO ME!" he shouted over the clattering noise of the microbots.

However, Yokai, it seemed, had other ideas. He lifted his other hand into the air and turned it palm-down over the first. A solid microbot ceiling formed above Mia and EO. As Yokai's palms drew closer, so too did the geyser rise and the ceiling lower, looking to crush them!

EO's arms tightened around Mia, and all she could think of was how kind and selfless he was to offer her comfort in their last moments among the living. For a second time, Mia closed her eyes, not wishing to watch her own death.

"Let them go, ya' big bully!"

Mia opened her eyes. "Figment!"

Her royal purple dragon friend charged through the ceiling of microbots with Tron's disc held aloft, shattering through the microbot ceiling with the glowing weapon.

"He saved us," she murmured in disbelief. "Figment, you saved us!"

Figment grinned at his young mistress. "Of course! What kind of protector would I be if I let you get smooshed like a little bug, Miandra?"

Yokai rushed towards Figment on his microbot wave. "Give that to me, you idiotic little thing!"

"FIGMENT, LOOK OUT!" shouted Mia.

But it was too late. A microbot hand shot out and flicked Figment hard enough to send him spiraling backwards through the air, knocking Tron's disc from his hand.

"FIGGY!" Mia shouted. She struggled, but there was nothing she could do. The geyser had stopped rising, but they were still trapped on an unsteady platform high above the ground.

Yokai caught Tron's disc and held it triumphantly. "YES! It's mine! Finally, it's mine!"

Now Mia understood this guy's motive. He wanted to steal the Tron program! Her eyes moved to Tron's prone body. Thankfully, he was no longer derezzing, but his body was de-pixelating and returning to the disc.

"TRON!"

Mia watched as Tron's body disappeared and the disc lit up with a soft blue glow. Yokai had him! He had Tron! Mia looked at EO.

"Please!" she begged. "We have to do something! We can't let him take that disc! That's Tron in there! Alan Bradley! If he takes that, then Flynn will never—"

"Fuzzball!" EO called, struggling to his feet.

Fuzzball flew to EO, who imbued him with rainbow energy.

"Miandra! Your bike! Hurry!"

Captain EO helped her to her feet. As Yokai raised Tron's disc victoriously into the air, Fuzzball flew towards him, creating a rainbow track for Mia to follow. Mia activated the white baton. The Light Cycle formed around her and she sped off, the wheels kicking up little microbots and spraying them hither thither.

Mia steered the Light Cycle down the rainbow path Fuzzball had created for her. Yokai never saw it coming. One minute, he had the disc; the next minute, the girl flew by on her bike and snatched it out of his hand. Mia clutched the disc tightly to her chest as she steered one-handed.

_I've got it! I saved Tron!_

"What?! NO! IT'S MINE!"

Yokai spun after Mia and thrust an arm upwards. A giant wall of microbots rose up in front of her, separating her from Fuzzball and cutting her off from his rainbow trail.

"MIANDRA! LOOK OUT!"

Mia heard EO's warning, but it made no difference. She was going too fast to stop and she couldn't maneuver properly with only one hand. So, she did the only thing she could do. She closed her eyes, grit her teeth, held Tron's disc tighter and braced for impact. There was a deafening crash. Mia felt a shock of pain shoot through her body like a bolt of lightning, and then she knew nothing but darkness.

Blair stood at the edge of the balcony, watching helplessly as his daughter crashed into the wall of microbots. The Light Cycle de-pixelated on impact, reverting to a white baton which clattered to the ground as Mia's body fell beside it. Her head glanced off the pavement. A trickle of blood trailed from her temple.

"MIANDRAAA!!!"

Yokai loomed closer to Miandra, who, despite everything, still somehow had Tron's disc clutched to her chest. "Foolish girl," he said, reaching a hand towards her.

"FIEND! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU HARM MY DAUGHTER ANY LONGER!"

The man known as The Dreamfinder stepped onto the balcony railing, his coattails blowing in the wind and his hands engulfed in swirling rainbow light. With a pop and a crack, a staircase appeared before him. But this was no light ribbon staircase like the one created by Grid technology from Flynn and Bonnie's float. This was pure Imaginergy at work. Blair descended the stairs to street level, looking far more formidable than anyone would have expected of an otherwise jolly and whimsical person bearing the title of Dreamfinder.

Yokai turned to regard his new opponent. "You? You will do nothing to stop me... old fool." With a wave of his hand, a thousand pounds of microbots came crashing down towards Blair from above.

With a fizzle and a pop, a colorful umbrella appeared in Blair's hand. The microbots struck the umbrella and glanced off as though it were made of something much stronger than nylon, and able to withstand the weight of millions of microbots. Once they'd been dispersed, Blair closed his umbrella, brandishing it threateningly.

"No!" shouted Yokai, stunned. "Impossible!" He summoned more microbots to him. They formed giant spikes and launched themselves at Blair.

The Dreamfinder swung the umbrella like a sword, smashing the incoming spikes to smithereens. Yokai took a step back on his microbot wave. His outstretched arm was trembling.

"S-Stop! You realize I can't allow this!" He clapped his hands together, creating two giant microbot hands to come crashing in towards Blair on either side.

With great equanimity, The Dreamfinder opened the umbrella once more, creating a reflective energy dome which caused the incoming attack to smash to bits on impact, sending the microbots scattering. Then, he closed the umbrella and pressed on. Nothing Yokai threw at Blair was stopping him. The Dreamfinder continued to approach, a look of intensity about him. Blair Mercurial's default may be a kind, gentle, and jovial man, but in truth, he was not a person to be trifled with.

"I don't know who you are, you masked villain, but this display of yours stops _now!_ " With that last word, Blair pointed the umbrella at Yokai and popped it open once more. A bright surge of rainbow energy blasted out, dispersing all the microbots.

Without his wave to stand on, Yokai toppled to the cobblestone street. The pillar of microbots gave way beneath Captain EO and a rainbow slide created by Fuzzball brought him gently to the ground as the frozen microbot geyser exploded.

Dreamfinder stood poised, pointing his umbrella at Yokai like a sword. Officers of the Royal Police flooded the streets, surrounding Yokai, along with Agent Royo and the AMPA. Joining Blair by his side was Princess Cindy flanked by Dufin and Barsdaal, their weapons unsheathed, and Captain EO with hands aglow.

Cindy aimed a crossbow at Yokai. "You, Yokai, or whoever you may be, are under arrest by the authority of Princess Cynthia Eleanor Whitehall!"

Yokai gazed up at the band of heroes who threatened to put his plot to an end. He had no more microbots with which to unleash against Cerenopia's defenders. The Dreamfinder had destroyed them with impossible magic.

"It's over for you," Blair growled.

Yokai rose slowly to his feet, hanging his head in defeat. But he was not as helpless as he seemed. Out of view of the heroes, a portion of his microbot army remained, collecting themselves and gathering together just out of eyesight. Suddenly, Yokai lifted his head.

"I think not!"

With a subtle twitch of his hand, a microbot spike hovered in the air above Miandra's prone body, threatening to drop.

"One step closer, _one move,_ and I impale the girl!"

Blair's eyes went wide. "Miandra!"

This awful villain, whoever he may be, had his daughter's life now hanging in the balance. Blair itched to make a move, to obliterate this villain with every ounce of Imaginergy he possessed, but he couldn't. Not with Miandra at risk.

"Lower your weapons," ordered Yokai. " _Now!_ "

Blair grit his teeth and drew in a breath. "Do as he says. Please!" With a pop, his umbrella disappeared from his hand.

Captain EO clenched his fists before the rainbow energy swirling around his hands dissipated. The Royal Officers had yet to act, they cast their gazes at Cindy, awaiting their princess' order.

"Cindy?" asked Dufin worriedly. "What do we do?"

"He's using Miandra's life as a bargaining chip for his escape," she muttered through clenched teeth. To her Royal Officers, she said, "You heard the professor! Lower your weapons, men! The Dreamfinder's daughter is priority one."

One by one, the Royal Police Force lowered their weapons. Cindy was the last to lower hers as she glared at Yokai. "Go then. We'll not stop you tonight. But mark my words... I _will_ find you and I will make you pay most dearly for what you've done tonight!"

Yokai turned to Cindy, the red of his mask pulsing. "Enjoy this night while you can. The darkness will soon fall."

With that cryptic farewell, a wave of microbots engulfed Yokai and quickly carried him away into the night. Once he was beyond the rooftops, the spike hovering over Miandra broke apart and scattered after him. With Miandra no longer in peril, the AMPA and the Royal Police gave chase. But in truth, there would be no catching him. Cindy sank to her knees as Blair ran to his daughter.

"Miandra! Oh, my sweet girl! Please be all right!" The Dreamfinder took his daughter into his arms and rocked her as tears streaked his cheeks. "Everything will be all right. Your father's here now. Everything will be all right."

~~~

The pull of consciousness tugged at Mia's mind. She did not want to awaken, for she was warm and comfortable, and the closer she got to consciousness, the more her head throbbed. But then, flashes of memory returned to her – Tron falling off the light ribbon; Tron in the clutches of a giant microbot fist, his body slowly starting to derezz as Yokai tried to squeeze the life out of him; and finally, Yokai raising Tron's disc triumphantly in his hand. And then she was on the Light Cycle. She was heading for Yokai. She'd grabbed the disc. But then... then...

Mia's eyes snapped open. She shot up and cried out, startling someone dozing in a chair at her bedside. The person went down, bumping their head on the side of the bedframe.

"Ah! Shit, man!"

Mia barely had time to register that she was in her own bed in the house on Tomorrow Hill. She turned towards the startled exclamation and leaned over the side of her bed to peer down. A man slowly rose to his knees, rubbing the side of his head.

"Ngh! Well, at least I know you're not in a coma, honey."

"Flynn?" she said, gaping at him, wide-eyed and tousle-haired. "Flynn! Oh God, Flynn! I'm so sorry! I tried to save him! I swear I tried! But I wasn't... I couldn't... Tron is..." She trailed off and began to cry.

Flynn pulled himself onto the edge of Mia's bed and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Mia... Mia! Hey... Calm down, kiddo. It's okay. You did it, honey. You _did_ save Tron. You've got him right there."

He motioned to the Identity Disc that she still had clutched to her chest. The glow was dim, but it was still glowing nonetheless.

"You saved him, Mia. I owe you so much for that, honey. Thank you."

"H-How?" she choked, gazing up at Flynn, her eyes wide, bewildered, and a touch unfocused. "The last thing I remember is crashing into a wall of microbots. I just assumed I lost the disc at that point."

Flynn smiled his ruggedly handsome smile at her. "How? Well, because you've kept a death grip on his disc, man. I tried to pry it away from you, but even knocked out, you weren't budging."

"Is Tron... Is he okay?"

Flynn's smile faltered. "Well, that remains to be seen. I still need to check him out. CLU was keeping tabs on his vitals. They weren't looking too hot, I'll say that."

More tears welled in Mia's eyes as she gazed down at the faintly glowing disc in her hands. "Is he going to die?" she asked, choking on another sob.

She hardly seemed to realize that she was using words which would be more accurately ascribed to a living being of flesh and blood than a program, and yet her question was a very poignant one that hit Flynn rather hard. In such a short time, Tron had become so much more than just a program to Mia. Not only did Tron defend and protect her twice against an attacker, but tonight she had a very personal interaction with a program that was originally designed only for defense. Tonight, Flynn, too, had watched his brother's program become so much more than he was originally coded to be.

Flynn studied Mia's face. She was still gazing at him with those wide, tear-filled eyes, awaiting his reply with baited breath.

"No," he said finally. "Not if I can help it." He placed his fingers along the edge of Tron's disc, indicating that it was okay for her to let go.

In that moment, Miandra Mercurial gave Flynn a brief glimpse of the little girl who was once Mia Baxter – a child full of hope, wishes, fairy-tale dreams, and the fear of losing someone special to her. She held onto the disc a moment longer, like a child afraid to release their dying pet. Finally, she relinquished it, gazing up at Flynn with eyes that looked far too large for a grown woman. Seeing tears running down this sweet girl's face was like a crime against all that was good and right.

"It's okay," he assured her as he took the disc. "I'll help him. Tron will be up and fighting for the utopia in no time. I promise." He slid Tron's disc into the back of his jacket where it connected as though by magnets. The light strip on the front of his jacket glowed faintly.

Flynn lowered his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I, uh... I tried to come, you know. When I found out that the end of the parade went sideways, I tried to come as fast as I could. But between the AMPA agents, the Royal Police, and all the panicked people... I couldn't make it. I really don't know what I would've done... but I tried."

For a moment, Mia blinked at him, and he was afraid that her concussion was worse than he'd thought. But finally, she replied.

"You did do something, Flynn. You did it through Tron. He helped protect me. I would've been smashed by that giant fist and fallen from the ring platform if he hadn't grabbed me and jumped out of the way. And he wouldn't have been there to do that if you and Alan hadn't created him."

Flynn wanted to grin and crack a joke about taking credit for Tron's work, but he simply didn't have it in him. He'd been worried sick about Mia when everything went awry; so worried that he was willing to place himself in harm's way to help her.

"Well, I'm glad that's enough," he said. "You're so much more of a hero than I could ever be. I heard everything you did tonight. You saw some crazy action, man! I heard you used the Light Cycle to snatch Tron's disc away from that lunatic. I'm really sorry I missed that!"

"My Light Cycle! Oh no! I must've dropped it!" She threw back the covers of her bed and leapt to her feet, only to swoon. A voice spoke from a dark corner of the room.

"Please do not rise. You are suffering from a... concussion... and should get plenty of rest and avoid any extraneous movement."

Mia nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned towards the voice. A Baymax unit stood in the corner, gazing benignly at her.

"JESUS!" she exclaimed.

"I am not Jesus," the Baymax unit stated in his pleasant, robotic, and matter-of-fact way. "I am Baymax. Your personal—"

"Healthcare companion," Mia finished with him. "Yes, I know. How long have you been standing there?"

"Time elapsed approximately... 60 minutes... or... one hour."

"Jesus!"

"Baymax."

"Ugh!"

Flynn stifled a laugh at this exchange. He'd almost forgotten Baymax was there. After all, he had dozed off a bit while holding vigil over Mia.

"Let's listen to the big marshmallow man, okay?" he said, as he took Mia by her shoulders and gently steered her back into bed. "Your Light Cycle is fine. Your little dragon pal nabbed it for you."

No sooner had Flynn draped the comforter over her, Mia shot back up, looking even more panicked than before. "Figment! That's right! Is he okay? What about everyone else? Are _they_ okay? My dad? Bonnie? Captain EO? Fuzzball?"

"Hey, hey. It's okay. Really! Everyone's all right. Your dad and Figment are downstairs. Bonnie and Snow are keeping him company. Your dad wanted to stay up with you all night, but he was pretty drained from earlier, so we all insisted he take it easy. Bonnie and Snow are here to make sure he listens."

"And... and you're here because...?"

"Me? I'm the relief pitcher when it comes to watching over you. I'm a bit of a night owl anyway, you might say. So, I can stay here and keep an eye on you until your dad's all rested up."

"What do you mean rested up? Why is he so drained?"

"You kidding? You should've seen him, Mia. He was somethin' else, I tell you. Actually, I can show you."

He took out his phone and accessed what Mia supposed must be Dizgaia's equivalent of the internet. "Some amateur videos were taken of tonight's attack. Granted, the video gets a little distorted, but that was your dad's fault. All that Imaginergy really messes with the cameras." He pulled up the video and turned his phone towards Mia, showing her what happened after she'd been knocked out.

Mia watched her father's heroics, open-mouthed and entranced. "Woah! He's totally kicking that guy's ass! Dad's like a weapon of mass destruction!"

"I know, right?" said Flynn, pausing the video and pocketing his phone. "So needless to say, your dad's pretty beat."

"So then, did they catch him? Did they arrest Yokai?"

Flynn shook his head. "I'm sorry to say they didn't. The jerk managed to get away. Speaking of which, I'm starting to wonder who that Yokai weirdo was, man."

"You mean it wasn't Robert Callaghan?"

"Robert Callaghan? Who the hell is..." He trailed off and a look of realization dawned on his face. "Oh! You mean the dude from Big Hero 6? Uh, yeah, that dude isn't a real person, Mia. He was just a character in that movie. We've never had a Robert Callaghan or a kabuki mask-wearing baddie who controls microbots. That's all new around these parts."

It was as she had suspected when Tron expressed unfamiliarity with the name. Aside from Tadashi and Baymax – and possibly Hiro, though she wasn't entirely sure – the Big Hero 6 movie was simply a work of fiction.

Flynn crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "My best guess? Some whack-job got his hands on some fancy tech and is copying the villain from that movie. Though, from what I saw, he has some kinda beef with us Imagineers. And he seemed to have it real bad for Tron."

"Yeah," said Mia. "Though I have to say, it was kind of nice having someone not be after _me_ for once. But that may have been my deadliest encounter yet. So maybe it's better to be wanted than to be collateral damage."

She was pensive for a moment. Then— "Is there a way to narrow down who it might be? I mean, we know he's got some problem with Imagineers. How common is it for someone on Dizgaia to be a fan of Disney movies? Like, I know people here know they exist, obviously, but is there anyone who could be enough of a fan to copy a villain from the films that doesn't otherwise exist? Do _you_ know of anyone, Flynn?"

"See, that's the problem, Mia. When Disney puts out new movies, I'm usually pretty good at getting my hands on them and bringing back copies so we can show them here. Everyone at the Imagination Institute is pretty well versed in Disney stuff. Tadashi got really annoyed when he kicked the bucket in Big Hero 6. Honey Lemon wouldn't stop teasing him about it. She even wanted to hold a funeral for him. And I'll tell ya... Tadashi's younger brother, Hiro, didn't make any little microbots like that. I mean, the kid's got a bright future, coming from such a smart family, but that kind of tech is a bit advanced for a three-year-old."

Mia listened intently. She always enjoyed hearing the truth of how things were on Dizgaia versus how Disney movies portrayed them.

"So, this must be an example of reverse inspiration," she said. "Someone on Earth used Tadashi, Hiro, and Honey Lemon as main characters in the movie, but some dude here on Dizgaia took the idea of the microbots and Yokai from the movie and made himself into a real supervillain."

She frowned. A super villain. And they hadn't caught him.

"Y-You don't think that guy will come back, do you? If he hates Imagineers, then he could try to steal Tron again, or he could try to hurt someone. Like... like you or...or..." She swallowed nervously. "You don't think he'd come after my dad, do you?"

Flynn laughed. Mia gaped at him, looking offended.

"Sorry, honey," he said at the look on her face. "I don't mean to downplay your worries, but I don't think your last concern's a valid one, especially not after that display your dad put on. That Yokai would have to have a death wish to tangle with _your_ old man."

"Can I see it again?"

"Sure."

He handed over his phone. Mia took it and replayed the video, grinning as her father disrupted Yokai's microbots with an imaginary umbrella. However, the video continued on past what Flynn had originally showed her. Just as Cindy told Yokai he was under arrest, Yokai defied her and the video panned over to Mia, unconscious, with a giant microbot spike suspended above her.

_"One step closer, and I impale the girl!"_

Mia's face went white as a sheet. She dropped the phone onto her lap, trembling and whimpering.

"Aw shit, Mia," said Flynn, quickly grabbing his phone and stopping the video. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't intend for you to see all that. Some of these dopes will upload anything."

He pulled her into his arms. She was positively aquiver.

"It's okay, honey. It's okay. You're all right now. I promise."

Baymax appeared at bedside. "You appear to be suffering from... post-traumatic stress. I would highly recommend a serotonin reuptake inhibitor."

"A _what_?" said Flynn.

"An anti-anxiety medication," Baymax explained in his slow, pleasant voice.

"The inflate-a-nurse has a point, Mia," said Flynn. "Maybe you should take something."

After some convincing, Mia accepted the pill and tepid water offered to her by the puffy robot nurse. "I'm satisfied with my care," she said quickly, before the Baymax unit could get any more maternal.

Baymax returned to his case and deflated as Flynn tucked Mia into bed. She was feeling pretty dizzy and, admittedly, exhausted. Perhaps sleep wouldn't be so bad. It must be quite late by now. As Mia's eyes fluttered, Flynn rose to his feet, thinking perhaps he'd best leave her to sleep, but she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Don't go yet," she said quietly. Averting her gaze bashfully, her lips quivering, she spoke in a hushed whisper. "Would you stay with me a little longer, Flynn? At least until I'm asleep?"

"Sure, honey. It's not like I have anywhere else to be." Flynn dragged the chair closer to the bed and took a seat next to Mia.

Mia's eyelids began to droop, but she was doing her damnest to resist the sweet siren's call of sleep, afraid that Flynn might leave. But the late hour, her concussion, and the stress of the night had taken its toll.

"Flynn," she said groggily, "Will you pet my head?"

"Huh? P-Pet your head?"

Flynn was certain this was a request she never would have made in her right mind. Nevertheless, he did as she asked, reaching forward and lightly caressing her hair, trailing his fingers through her long, silky locks.

Mia's eyelids finally lost the battle. She lay with her eyes closed, making contented sounds in her throat as Flynn stroked her hair. Flynn thought of how unfair it all was. This night was supposed to be wonderful. It was supposed to be all about her, and whoever this Yokai bastard was went and ruined it.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this, sweetie. Really."

Flynn hadn't expected a response, but Mia replied nonetheless.

"It was magical," she said softly. "It was the most perfect, beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me, and I'll remember it for the rest of my life. And no unoriginal copycat supervillain with a grudge..." She trailed off and yawned. "...can ever take that away from me. Ever."

A grin spread across Flynn's face as he continued to pet her hair. And despite everything, Mia was smiling, too.

"Goodnight, Flynn," she said softly, and was instantly asleep.

As Mia's breathing grew slow and rhythmic, Flynn leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Goodnight... Dreamgirl."

~~~

In a distant land, the masked villain's boots echoed throughout tomblike chambers with each step he took across the flagstone. Two ungodly creatures stepped aside to permit him entrance to the grand hall of the castle. He approached a shadowy figure who sat upon a throne and took a knee before her. The beady-eyed raven that was perched on the arm of the throne ruffled its feathers and let out a disdainful caw. A long, pale hand reached forward from the shadows and stroked its feathers.

"You have proven your competency well tonight," said the cruel, feminine voice. "I do believe I can make use of you in the future." The hand paused in its stroking and the raven ruffled its feathers. "But next time, ensure that what _I_ want doesn't become collateral damage in obtaining what _you_ want. Computer programs aren't the only precious commodity for obtaining power. Sometimes, they come in much softer packages which cannot be repaired, and so must be handled... delicately."

The masked villain bowed his head. "Yes, my lady."

"I will personally assure your revenge, so long as you do my bidding without error."

"Thank you, my lady."

"Stand by, Yokai. I may yet have use of your services."


	21. Breakfast at Tiana's

Mia awoke to warm, golden sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window as it alighted upon her face like a heavenly beam. Flynn was gone. In his place was her father, the Dreamfinder, asleep in the chair at her bedside. Mia sat up. With the ears of a fox, her father awoke to the rustling of the covers.

"Miandra! Oh, dearest! You've no idea how relieved I am to see you awake!"

"I might have an inkling," she said with a small smile, rubbing her head and discovering a small bandage over her temple.

"Oh, don't do that," said Blair, taking her hand in his and lowering it from her head. "You'll reopen your wound."

"Is it bad?" she asked.

"Well, it's not terrible, but I'd still prefer if you didn't mess with it, dear. Thankfully, it seems you've sustained no serious injuries. Just a mild concussion. But that doesn't mean we should take it lightly."

The bedroom door creaked open and a small, purple snout and a pair of big yellow eyes peeked inside.

"Is she awake, Dreamfinder?"

"She is, Figment. Come say good morning."

The door flew open and Figment fluttered in excitedly. "Oh boy, oh boy!" he said, hovering over to the bed and plopping himself onto Mia's lap. "Miandra, I was so worried!"

Mia took him into her arms and hugged him. "It's okay. I'm all right, I promise. What about you, though?" She held him at arms' length to inspect him. "Are _you_ okay, Figgy?"

"Oh sure! I'm right as rain!"

"Yokai hit you pretty hard, though."

"It'll take a lot more than that to take me out of commission!" said Figment, puffing his chest proudly.

"Figment _did_ come away with some bumps and bruises, but I took care of that," said Blair.

"With the healing power of imagination," said Mia, giving her father a knowing look.

Blair laughed. "Exactly, dear. Oh, it does my heart good to see you smiling," he said, taking her into his arms and holding her. "I may never let you go again!"

"Yeah, because _that's_ something every 19-year-old girl wants to hear from her father," came her muffled but amused response.

"Yes, well, at the very least, I'll be keeping you under lock and key for the next couple of days."

"The next couple days?" said Mia, pulling away. "But I invited Flynn on a date! You know that! I did it in front of, like, everyone!"

"Well, I suppose the two of you will just have to take a rain check on that date. I'm sure Kevin will understand. But you need to take it easy and get plenty of bed rest. A concussion is nothing to sneeze at."

"But I feel fine!"

"And I'm very glad to hear that, dear. But we shouldn't take any chances. Just a couple days' rest is all I ask of you, all right?"

"All right," she sighed.

"And who knows? Perhaps Kevin can visit you here while you're taking it easy."

"Oh yeah, sure, that's an appealing idea," said Mia with a roll of her eyes. "Hey, Flynn. Let's have a date here at my house while I sit in bed in my jammies with my dad listening at the door."

"Oh, come now. I wouldn't spy on you."

"You definitely would, Dreamfinder!" said Figment helpfully.

Blair narrowed an irritated gaze at his dragon friend. "There's a saying, Figment, that goes _'Don't bite the hand that creates you.'_ It'd be nice if you'd practice that mantra once in a while."

Mia snorted back laughter.

"Oh! Speaking of biting things, I just remembered why I came up here," said Figment. "Breakfast is ready!"

"Breakfast?" said Mia. "You made breakfast?"

"Well," said Figment, shifting his gaze. "Not exactly, but I helped!" He hesitated, then gazed guiltily up at Mia. "I was the taste tester. Does that count?"

Mia laughed.

"Why are you laughing, Miandra?"

"Just take it as a compliment, Figment," said Blair with a smile. "The sound of Miandra's laughter is music to my ears."

"Mine, too!" said Figment with a giggle.

"So then, if you didn't make breakfast, who did?" asked Mia.

"Princess Snow, of course!" said Figment.

"Then we'd best not keep her waiting," said Blair, offering Miandra his arm.

"Snow's still here? Did she stay the night?"

"She did," said Blair as he escorted Mia down the stairs. "Apparently, she thought I could use the emotional support, and she refused to leave until she could see you awake and on your feet."

"That's right!" came a voice from the kitchen. "Now come sit down. Breakfast is served!"

"You really didn't have to do all this, Snow," said Mia, taking the chair her father pulled out for her.

Snow was wearing an apron over a pair of yellow pajamas with teddy bears on them. "Oh, please," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Anyway, I hope you don't mind, Miandra. I borrowed your pajamas." She set three platefuls of eggs benedict and steamed tomatoes in front of them.

"I don't mind. And even if I did, how could I complain now?" said Mia, digging into her food. "Mmm! This is amazing! How is it that a princess knows how to cook so well?"

"Ah, ah, ah. That's stereotyping, Miandra," said Snow wagging a finger at her. "Just because I'm a princess doesn't mean I don't know how to do things for myself. Besides, I had to cook and clean for seven dwarves. It was a necessity. You should've seen the state of their home beforeI took charge. Anyway, after that, you kind of become a pro at it. Know what I'm saying?"

"I'd imagine so."

"Can I get you some coffee, Uncle Blair?"

"Oh, yes please, Snow," said Blair, dabbing at his beard with a napkin, his mouth already half-full.

"Can't you get yourself some coffee, Dad?" hissed Mia. "Honestly, making the princess—"

"Ah, ah, Miandra," said Snow setting a coffee mug in front of Blair. "Just because I'm a princess doesn't mean I can't take care of you guys after the night you had. Incidentally, how are you feeling?"

"I'm all right. I've got a bit of a headache, but otherwise fine."

"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that," said Snow with a sigh of relief. "We were all worried to death about you. We could hardly sleep."

"Speaking of which, I heard Bonnie was here last night," said Mia.

Blair choked on his tomatoes. Mia and Snow exchanged knowing glances.

"Ahem. Yes," said Blair. "She was rather distraught after last night's events, and rightfully so."

"I hope you took good care of her."

Blair suddenly became very interested in his food and wouldn't look up from his plate. "Well, I did what any gentleman would do in such a situation. I made her a cup of tea and did my best to uh, to uh, you know, calm her down."

"Honestly, I think Bonnie was taking more care of your dad last night than he was of her," said Snow, grinning. "He was a wreck for worry over you. I don't think I could have consoled him all on my lonesome. It was a good thing she was here."

"She looked really pretty last night," said Mia.

"Oh, most definitely," said Snow, quickly catching on. "Didn't she, Uncle Blair?"

"Oh? W-Well, y-yes. She looked very... The dress was very..."

"Sexy?" asked Mia.

"Becoming!" Blair said unnecessarily loudly, as though he wished to drown out Mia's choice of word. "It was very becoming on her!"

"Why are you shouting, Uncle Blair?"

Blair's face was beet red. Even Figment had paused in his eating to regard him curiously.

"Yeah, what's wrong, Dreamfinder? Your face looks like a tomato."

Blair drained the rest of his coffee and rose to his feet. "I don't know what you two girls are getting at, but you really ought to mind your own business, you know. It's not proper for a young lady to meddle in a man's affairs."

"Affairs?" said Mia, lifting an eyebrow.

" _Not_ what I meant," he said, narrowing his gaze at her.

Mia opened her mouth to say something else, but Blair didn't give her the chance.

"I have to go. I'm meeting with Cindy and Agent Royo today, and then I've got to see what I can do for the people of Main Street. There's a lot of work to be done. As for you," he said, pointing a finger at his daughter. "When you're finished with breakfast, I want you back in bed. You can read, but no television. I don't want you making your headache worse. And you two," he said, turning his stern gaze on Snow and Figment, "Are to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't leave the house. Understand?"

Snow and Figment gulped and nodded.

"Good," said Blair, grabbing his jacket and top hat from the coat rack and pulling them on. "I'll be back this evening." With that, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

"Touchy, isn't he?" said Snow.

"Yeah," said Mia, grinning. "I think there's something there that wasn't there before."

"What is it?" asked Figment. "What's there, Miandra?"

"I'll tell you when you're older," said Mia, and she and Snow burst out laughing.

Figment sighed and shook his head. "Girls are weird."

~~~

When Blair returned later that night, he was tired, but in good spirits. "Main Street was an absolute mess, but we've made a lot of progress in repairing everything," he said as he hung up his coat and hat.

Mia took pity on him and decided not to tease him about Bonnie anymore. After all, it seemed he'd had a long day.

"Glad to hear it, Dad. Snow made supper before she left. There are leftovers in the fridge. Help yourself."

Having already eaten, Mia nonetheless sat with her father at the table as he had his supper. "Any luck tracking down Yokai?" she asked.

Blair shook his head and made a rather violent stab at his scalloped potatoes. "None whatsoever," he growled. "No sign of him, no leads of who he might be... nothing. It really makes my blood boil to know that he's still at large. Speaking of which," he glanced up abruptly. "When you're fully recovered, I don't want you running around town by yourself."

"What?!"

"I mean it, Miandra."

"But Yokai wasn't even after _me!"_

"Nevertheless..."

"But I wanted to go see Flynn and visit with Tiana and Naveen!"

Blair sighed. "All right. As long as it's broad daylight and you don't go anywhere you're not familiar with..."

Mia opened her mouth to speak.

"And you stick only to public places..."

She attempted a second time to speak, but he continued.

" _And_ you check in with someone _,_ whether that's me, Tiana, Flynn, or the princesses at least every couple of hours, you may do as you please."

"Ugh. Fine."

"Don't worry, Dreamfinder," said Figment, flying in from the living room and alighting upon the table. "I'll guard Miandra with my life!"

"See?" said Mia. "Figment will protect me."

There was nothing Blair could do here without hurting Figment's feelings, so he let out a little sigh. "Yes. I'm sure you will, Figment. Though that reminds me... We still need to form an imagination bond between the two of you."

Mia's eyes lit up with excitement. "Can we do it now?"

"I'm afraid not, dear heart," said Blair leaning back in his chair and pushing his finished plate away. "I'm magically exhausted at the moment. I used a lot of Imaginergy helping the citizens of Main Street rebuild today. Perhaps we'll put that on our weekend itinerary. I should be feeling recharged by then."

"Okay, " said Mia, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

Mia and Blair finished up the night with in their pre-bedtime routine of curling up on the couch with a hot cup of tea and taking turns reading aloud from a mystery novel. Figment rested his head in Miandra's lap. When he began to snore, it was a sign that it was time to put down the book and say goodnight.

Only one more day of rest remained before Mia was allowed to leave the house, though she was rather hoping that perhaps she wouldn't have to wait that long to see Flynn. But he never visited. When Blair came home from another long day of helping the people of Main Street rebuild their shops and businesses, Mia asked if he'd been to the Imagination Institute at all.

"Only briefly, dear," he said, hanging up his coat. "There was still much work to be done on Main Street, but I think we've finally got it finished."

"Did you see Flynn at all?"

Blair tied a napkin around his neck, eager to dig into the delicious supper Mia had prepared. "Flynn? Oh, uh... no, dear. I didn't. But Dr. Channing was in a remarkably terrible mood today, so I have no doubt that Kevin was there." He let out a good-humored chuckle as he tucked into his meal. "I'm sure he and Tron are just fine, dear. There's no need to worry about them."

But Mia was unusually sullen throughout the meal and only picked at her food. Later, during their evening activity, she seemed rather disengaged, and passed up the opportunity to take her turn reading a chapter.

"Miandra, dear," said Blair, closing the book and setting it aside. "You're unusually quiet tonight. What seems to be troubling you?"

"I guess I just thought Flynn would have visited me by now."

"Oh, darling, I'm sure he's just been very busy. After all, Tron sustained some heavy damage, and you know how much that program means to him."

"Yeah... I know. And I like Tron, too. I want him to be okay. It's just... I thought Flynn might've at least dropped by to check on me. I guess I'm just a little disappointed."

"Well, dear, why don't you go visit him at the Institute first thing tomorrow?"

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I mean, I don't want to bother him. Maybe he doesn't want to see me."

"I'm sure that's not true, Miandra. First thing tomorrow morning, drive that Light Cycle of yours – the one your friend, Flynn, gave you, may I remind you – to the Institute and pay him a visit. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, and could likely use a break. All right?"

Mia smiled. Her father was right. If Flynn didn't want to have anything to do with her, why would he have given her the Light Cycle or arranged that lovely dance with Tron at the parade, or stayed at her bedside all night?

"Yeah, I think I'll do that. Thanks, Dad."

Blair put an arm around her and kissed her on the forehead. "You're welcome, dearest. Now, what do you say we finish this chapter?"

"Sure," said Mia, reaching for the book. "It's my turn to read."

~~~

It was just after 10 in the morning when Mia pulled up to the Imagination Institute on her Light Cycle. She screeched to a halt and the bike disintegrated into a collection of pixels as she dismounted. As Mia pocketed the glowing baton, she spotted Tadashi and Honey Lemon having a coffee break near the leapfrog fountains.

"Hey, Miandra!" called Tadashi. "Looking good!"

"Yeah, girl!" said Honey Lemon. "That bike is working for you!"

"Thanks," said Mia, suddenly feeling very cool as she walked through the entrance to the Institute. Mia had just climbed the marble staircase to the second floor when she ran into Dr. Channing.

"Ah. Miandra, good morning!"

"Good morning, Dr. Channing."

"Please, Nigel is fine," he said, smiling brightly at her. "How are we feeling today? You had quite the nasty tumble off that hellish contraption of yours the night of the parade."

"I'm better. Thanks for asking. And to be fair, that wasn't so much the Light Cycle's fault as it was Yokai and his microbots."

"Ah, yes," said Channing, his expression darkening. "Yokai. We've had to double security here at the Institute because of that maniac."

"Good idea. He did seem to have a grudge against the Imagineers. Any leads on who it might be?"

Channing shook his head. "Some upstart luddite afraid of progress, no doubt."

"But he had some serious tech for a luddite, don't you think? He seemed to be more upset by the way you all were using your inventions – for the parade and stuff."

"Perhaps he was someone who applied for a job with the institute that we turned down, and now he's got his knickers in a twist about it. But that doesn't exactly narrow it down. We've had to reject a lot of applications. Not everyone is cut out to be an Imagineer, you know."

"I suppose not."

"Speaking of which," he said, his bright countenance returning, "We have an opening for an internship here at the Institute, if you're interested. Being Professor Mercurial's daughter, you're no doubt brilliant, and already have your foot in the door, so to speak."

"Oh, uh, thanks, Dr. Channing—"

"Please. Nigel."

"Right. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but to be honest, I'm more of the artistic type and a little less of the science-y type."

"Oh? I see. You take after your mother, then."

"Um, not really," said Mia, both confused and a little miffed. She didn't want to be compared to her mother, whom she still hadn't forgiven.

"So, visiting your father at work?" asked Channing, entirely glazing over what she'd said.

"No. Not exactly. I'm—"

"Really?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow and smiling. "In that case, is there anything I can do for you? It's come to my attention that you've not been given a proper tour of the ImageWorks part of the Institute since you were whisked in here by that irresponsible—"

"Actually, Dr. Channing, I'm here to see Flynn."

"Oh." Channing's expression fell. "Well, good luck with that."

He turned and stalked off. Mia breathed a sigh of relief. Without the aid of Figment's childish energy and his penchant to annoy Channing, it seemed the stuffy chairman could talk her ear off. Thankfully, invoking Flynn's name was enough to send him packing. She'd have to remember that for the next time she encountered Channing when Figment wasn't with her.

Finally, she arrived at the door to Flynn's lab. Mia took a moment to fix her hair before knocking. She waited. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Mia pressed her ear to the door. No music. That was odd. Was he even in? Mia knocked one more time. When she still didn't get an answer, she called his name.

"Hey, Flynn!"

"Oh, I wouldn't bother, Miss."

Mia spun around, searching for the source of the voice.

"Ahem. Down here, Miss."

Mia looked down to see Jeffrey the penguin, wearing his usual fedora and carrying his briefcase.

"Oh, h-hi, Mister, uh..."

"Just Jeffrey, Miss," the penguin said cheerfully, doffing his cap and bowing like an English gentleman.

"Hi, Jeffrey. So, um, what was it you were saying?"

"Oh. Right. I was just saying that I wouldn't bother if I were you," he said, nodding at Flynn's door.

"Why not?"

"Well, see, Flynn's been locked up in his lab for two days straight now and won't answer for anybody. Not even the chairman. In fact, Dr. Channing got so riled up over being ignored, that he did an override of the locking mechanism on Flynn's door and... Well, let's just say that didn't go over too well."

"What happened?" said Mia quietly, leaning down towards him.

"Flynn threw a coffee mug at the chairman and shouted, and I'm paraphrasing here, ' _Get out of my flippin' room, man_!'" Jeffrey raised a flipper to his beak and whispered, "But he didn't say 'flippin.'"

"Oh," said Mia, straightening up and glancing at the door again. "So, you think I should come back later?"

"Between you and me, Miss," said Jeffrey setting his hat back atop his head. "I'd make that more like never." He gave her a cheery salute and waddled off down the hallway.

~~~

It was half-past 11 when Mia walked into Tiana's Palace, feeling very down. She was a half hour ahead of the lunch rush, so the place was calm and quiet with an ambience resembling more of a café than a 1920s jazz club restaurant. She ordered a coffee and took a seat by the window, gazing out at Main Street.

It was bustling and cheerful as usual. It was hard to believe that just a couple nights ago, a masked villain had been wrecking mayhem in the streets. Mia hadn't gotten much of a chance to assess what damage had been done at the time, as she was rather preoccupied with rescuing Tron and trying not to die. But from what she understood, a good deal of collateral damage had been done. Looking at it now, though, you'd never suspect it.

"Miandra!"

Mia tore her gaze from the window. "Oh. Hi, Tiana."

"Good gracious, honey. That was a one thousand-yard stare if I ever saw one. I must've said your name at least three or four times before you even noticed me."

"Sorry," said Mia, staring into her coffee cup.

Tiana frowned, taking a seat across from her. "I'd say you're lookin' better since the incident three nights ago but for that expression on your face. Why so glum?"

Mia shrugged, trailing her finger around the rim of her mug.

"Come on, Miandra. You can tell me. Please? Maybe I can help."

"Well, it's... it's Flynn."

Tiana lifted an eyebrow. "Flynn?"

Mia nodded, her eyes on her coffee.

"Oh, that's right. The two of you were supposed to go on a date or somethin'."

"S'posed to," said Mia, taking a sip of coffee.

"What happened?"

Mia told her how Flynn hadn't been to visit her since the night of the Yokai incident, and then what Jeffrey had said back at the Institute.

"Oh honey, I wouldn't put too much stock in all that. After all, Tron took a one heck of a beating that night, and we all know how important that program is to Flynn. He's probably just really absorbed in his work."

"Yeah, that's what my dad said, too," Mia mumbled.

Tiana placed a finger beneath Mia's chin and tilted her head to look at her. "Then believe it," she said.

"Hey! Miandra!" greeted Naveen, as he came out of the kitchen, drying his hands with a towel. "Did that no-good, lousy geek stand you up?"

"Naveen, honey," said Tiana through clenched teeth. "Not helping."

"You mean he _did_ stand her up? Oh. Oh, I'm... I'm sorry, Miandra. I was only joking. I didn't realize."

"S'okay," she mumbled, keeping her gaze lowered.

"You want I should go have a friendly chat with him?" Naveen asked, pounding a fist into his palm and cracking his knuckles.

"Naveen!" said Tiana sharply. "Could you let me handle this please?"

"All right, all right," said Naveen, holding up his hands. "Sorry." He turned and walked away. "Ashidanza! You try to help a girl..."

Tiana watched him go, shaking her head. "Sorry about him. Now, where were we?"

"You were telling me I shouldn't put too much stock in things and that Flynn's probably just really busy working on Tron."

"Well, it's true. Kevin Flynn used to be a notorious goof-off. Smart, but very devil-may-care. But ever since his brother died, he became really focused and dedicated, especially when it comes to Tron."

"Yeah, I know. And it's not that I don't get that. He did tell me about Alan and how much the Tron program meant to him. But I still thought he would at least take time for _me_. You see..."

Mia hesitated. It was rather personal and somewhat embarrassing, but Tiana was a married woman with experience. Perhaps she could offer some helpful insight or advice. So, Mia divulged everything to her, starting from her night with Flynn in The Grid and the trajectory of their relationship from there.

"So, like, what if what he's _actually_ sorry for is for making a move on me in the first place? Like, what if that's the real reason he set up that parade dance and gave me a Light Cycle? And what if he just stayed with me that night out of guilt? Maybe he's not really interested in me like... like _that_ , you know?"

"Honey, you can play the 'what if'game till the cows come home, but that ain't gonna solve anything, and it isn't fair to yourself or to Flynn. Until you know for sure, don't assume anything."

"Then what do I do?"

"You wait. Be patient. He'll come around. I'm certain of it. And when he does, just ask him outright."

"Ask him outright?"

"Sho', honey. Beatin' around the bush ain't gonna get you anywhere, now is it?"

Mia lowered her gaze. "I guess not."

"It certainly isn't. Now turn that frown upside-down and give us a smile, honey. 'Sides, I've got somethin' to show you. Follow me."

Tiana led Mia up a grand staircase at the back of the restaurant and onto the second floor, but she didn't stop there. She continued to lead her up a spiral staircase and onto the roof of the restaurant. The roof was overlaid with artificial grass. Foldable tables and chairs sat beneath a stilted canopy with hanging plants. And best of all, there was a perfect view of Main Street below and Epcot and the mountains beyond.

"We've got ourselves a little rooftop café up here," said Tiana, pointing to an espresso bar. "Open only for breakfast."

"Oh, wow. It's adorable, Tiana!"

"You like it?"

"Like it? I _love_ it!"

"It's all thanks to you and your father, of course."

"Me and dad?"

"It was your comment last week that gave me the idea, and when your father showed up to help rebuild the restaurant after the Yokai incident... Well, let's just say I put a little bug in his ear. He put this together with some of that good ol' Imaginergy of his. Would've been quite the expense and the hassle without him, I'll tell you."

"So, was the restaurant badly damaged?"

"Oh, honey, it was totaled."

"Oh no!"

"Yeah. It took the brunt of those microbot battering rams. Shoulda' seen me two days ago, bawlin' my eyes out. Naveen and I worked so hard to make this place become a reality. I was heartbroken. But your father showed up the next day, gave me a big ol' hug and told me not to worry. That poor man really tuckered himself out using all that Imaginergy to fix this place. I had to set him straight on some details in the architecture, but your daddy's got a blueprint memory, honey."

"Wow. No kidding."

"Yep," said Tiana, tucking her hands into the pockets of her apron and rocking back on her heels. "I owe that man so much, I could never possibly pay him back for all that he's done for us. He means a lot to people here in Cerenopia." She turned her beautiful brown eyes on Mia. "I hope you're proud of your daddy, Miandra."

"Yes, definitely," said Mia, smiling. "I'm _very_ proud to be his daughter."

"There it is," said Tiana.

"There what is?" asked Mia.

"Your smile," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind Mia's ear in a sisterly manner. "No matter how hard things get, never let anyone take that beautiful smile from you, Miandra. You hear?"

Blushing, Mia replied, "Yes, ma'am."

"Hey! Did you just ma'am me?"

"Uh, I—"

Tiana put her hands on her hips. "I may've been a grown woman when you were just a baby, but as it stands now, I'm only a few years older than you, honey. So if you ma'am me again, there's gonna be trouble."

With a gulp, Mia nodded. "Duly noted."

Laughing good humoredly, Tiana linked her arm with Mia's and led her back down the stairs and into the restaurant. "You know," she said, giving Mia a sideways glance. "Looks-wise, you may take after your mother, but I reckon I can see a bit of your father in you whenever you smile."

"Really?" asked Mia, her eyes sparkling. She'd much rather be compared to her father than her mother.

"Really," said Tiana with a smile of her own.

However, when they returned to the main floor of the restaurant, Tiana gazed around and let out a sigh. "I only wish we'd been able to salvage the artwork," she said.

"Art work?"

"Mm-hmm. During our honeymoon overseas, Naveen and I collected some priceless works of art to decorate the restaurant. You know, add a little flavor to the décor. Some were even wedding gifts from his parents. And over the years, of course, we went to auctions and procured quite the collection. Oh, Miandra, they were wonderful. Sadly, they were all damaged during the battle with Yokai."

"My dad wasn't able to remake them for you?"

Tiana shook her head. "Even imaginergy has its limits. It's one thing to create things out of thin air with the use of imagination, to rebuild structures that were broken. But art... art is perhaps the purest imagination in physical form, and no two people's imaginations are quite the same. Not even your father's Imaginergy can reproduce another person's work, a person who's put their heart and soul into something like that. At least that's what your daddy told me when I asked him."

"Oh man... I'm sorry, Tiana."

"It's all right," said Tiana, but Mia could see that her smile was forced.

Feeling sorry for her friend, she said, "Maybe I could help you, Tiana. I minored in Fine Arts in university. Granted, I only have a year of college under my belt, but I've dappled in a bit of painting and I'm not... well, I'm not _terrible_."

No sooner had those words escaped her lips, Mia clapped a hand over her mouth. What did she just say? What did she just volunteer to do?

Tiana's eyes lit up. "Really? You mean it? Oh, Miandra... Why, that would be just lovely! Oh, thank you, honey! Thank you!" She gave Mia a big hug, which made it even harder to revoke the offer. "You've got a heart of gold, just like your daddy."

"A-Actually, Tiana, I don't want to give you the wrong idea. I'd be happy to do it for you, but you should be aware of the, um, quality of what you're getting. See, I'm really only an amateur at best."

"Oh, fiddlesticks, honey. You're the Dreamfinder's daughter."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean—"

"I've no doubt you're selling yourself short."

"But Tiana, I really don't think they're going to be anywhere near as good as what you had before."

"I don't care about that, honey. In fact, they'll mean so much more to me because they'll be a gift from a friend."

"Are you sure?" asked Mia, wringing her hands nervously and really wishing she hadn't opened her big mouth.

"I'm positive."

"Well... all right. But if I make something you don't like, you're under no obligation to keep it or hang it up or anything. I won't be offended. I can give you some sample pictures to start and—"

Tiana placed a finger against Mia's lips, stopping her mid-sentence. "Hush now," she said. "You really need to learn how to promote yourself, hun. You should be your biggest advocate, not your biggest detractor."

"I guess I've never been all that confident in my abilities," Mia admitted. "Life's hit me with some pretty hard knocks. In the process, I guess my self-esteem took a big hit, too."

"Well then, consider this an exercise in confidence-building," said Tiana. "Stop by tomorrow and show me some of your stuff. In fact, come by every day this week and I'll make you breakfast on the house in return for your work. Deal?"

"Yes, ma'am. Uh, I-I mean... deal."

Tiana spun Mia around and aimed a playful kick at her butt.

~~~

Bright and early the next morning, Mia stopped at the Imagination Institute and knocked on Flynn's door. There was no answer today either. Keeping Tiana's words in mind and determined not to let this get her down, she went to Tiana's Palace with her sketchbook in hand. Over cups of coffee, Mia nervously showed Tiana some of her preliminary sketches. Tiana loved them and asked her if she might get started right away.

Tiana and Naveen had already purchased an easel, canvass, and paint supplies for her. They set up a little work station for Mia up on the rooftop. Even after the breakfast rush was over and the rooftop café was technically closed, Mia remained, working on her painting for Tiana, who made sure to come up frequently to serve her coffee and whatever else she might want. It seemed as long as she was there and working diligently, Tiana was content to give her both breakfast _and_ lunch on-the-house.

By four o'clock, Mia packed up her things and bid Tiana and Naveen a farewell. She wanted to be sure she was home in time to have supper prepared for her father.

"See you guys later!" she called, giving them a wave as they prepared for the dinner crowd.

"Same time, same place!" Naveen called back.

"Oh, Miandra, wait a sec," said Tiana.

Mia paused at the door.

"Any word from Flynn yet?" she asked quietly.

"Not yet," said Mia.

"Well, don't you worry none," said Tiana with a reassuring smile. "Just give him time."

Mia managed a smile and nodded.

But time did not seem to make a difference. Each morning Mia stopped at the Imagination Institute and knocked on Flynn's door, and each time there was no answer. No sign, heads or tails, of him. Eventually, Mia stopped going to the Institute and Tiana stopped asking about Flynn and hushed Naveen any time he seemed about to make any mention of him.

By this time, Mia felt it safe to assume that the whole apology from Flynn had meant something different than how she'd interpreted it; that Flynn just felt honor and duty-bound to apologize, and that it was in no way an attempt to initiate some sort of relationship. Mia was embarrassed and wondered how she ever could have been so stupid as to think it was anything more than what it was.

Nevertheless, she continued to visit Naveen and Tiana every day. It had become a delightful routine and a nice distraction from her woes regarding Flynn. By the end of the week, she had completed her first painting. Tiana loved it. She wasted no time in hanging it up in the restaurant. Mia showed her more preliminary sketches and Tiana commissioned three more paintings from her.

Early one rainy morning, Mia came into the restaurant with her hair wet and her satchel hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, dripping water over the floor.

"Sorry, Tiana."

"Oh, honey, don't apologize," said Tiana, ushering her towards a seat. "It's rainin' cats and dogs out there! Honestly, I'm surprised you even bothered to come. Now let's get you something hot to warm you up before you catch cold. Perhaps a nice, steamy hot chocolate."

"With marshmallows?"

"You got it, honey."

On her way to the table, Mia slipped and dropped her satchel. Her sketchbooks and notebooks went spilling out onto the floor.

"Whoops. Don't worry," said Naveen. "I've got it." Like a gentleman, he bent down to pick up her things.

"Thanks," said Mia as he set them on the table. However, he still held onto her notebook. Curiosity compelled him to skim through it.

"Ashidanza! You're a writer, too, Miandra? Aren't you just a jack-of-all-trades!"

"N-No, wait! Naveen, give it back." Mia held out her hand, but Naveen ignored her as he continued to skim through it.

The restaurant was emptier than usual, even for this time of day. It seemed no one wanted to come out in the bad weather. Still, it wasn't entirely vacant. There were the usual breakfast patrons drinking their coffee and talking quietly amongst themselves. But at Mia's protestations, they glanced up from their meals. And so, when Naveen began to read aloud, Mia panicked.

"The harbor was bustling as usual while the young girl stood at the docks, awaiting the man she knew would come. Captain Rowan Callaway was greatly beloved by the denizens of Port Lyons, but none loved him more than—"

Mia leapt to her feet and grabbed for the notebook, but Naveen held it out of reach.

"Hey, what's the problem, Miandra? Don't be shy. I just want to read a bit."

"I don't let anyone read my stories, Naveen," she said, jumping for it, but Naveen held it higher over his head and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh? And why it that?" Suddenly, his eyes grew wide and a mischievous smile crossed his face. "Ohhh... I get it. This is one of those steamy romance novels, isn't it? Now, I _have_ to read it!"

"No, it's not! Come on! Give it back, Naveen," Mia begged as she continued to leap for it.

"What's all the commotion?" asked Tiana, emerging from the kitchen.

"Hey, Tiana, catch!" shouted Naveen, tossing the notebook to her.

Tiana caught it and Mia ran towards her, but Naveen scooped her up and hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Ah! H-Hey! Put me down! Come on!"

"Read it, Tiana! Read it!" crowed Naveen.

Mia struggled uselessly. Naveen was strong. Mia, who'd always been an only child, figured this must be what it felt like to have two older siblings who loved you but took a little too much joy in picking on you. Tiana opened the notebook and began to read a from different page.

"The glittering chariot came to a halt. The winged oxen grunted and pawed at the ground. Their breath billowed from their flaring nostrils like puffs of smoke in the cold night air. The footman hopped down from his perch. Bowing, he opened the door. It was dark. Katerina could barely see inside. She hesitated. A hand reached out of the darkness, beckoning. With a deep breath, Katerina accepted the hand that was offered to her. Its owner pulled her into the carriage. The footman closed the door and—"

"No! Please, Tiana! Don't read it!"

"Why not?"

"No, no! Keep going, Tiana!" Naveen encouraged. "It's getting to the steamy part! Miandra's just embarrassed! Read it, hurry!"

"It isn't steamy!"

"Methinks you doth protest too much, Miandra," said Naveen with a laugh.

"No, really! I mean it," Mia insisted. "Tiana, please!"

She began to cry.

Tiana snapped the notebook shut. "Oh, Miandra, honey. Naveen, put her down. Hurry."

Naveen set Mia back to her feet. "Aww, jeez, Miandra, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was only fooling around."

Mia could barely speak for tears.

"Oh, no, no, no. Please don't cry." Naveen placed his hand to her cheek and used his thumb to wipe away a tear.

"Miandra, what in the world is wrong, honey?" asked Tiana, taking her by the arm and leading her gently to a table in the corner.

"S-Sorry," said Mia. "I know I sound like a complete basket case, but I really mean it when I say I don't let anyone read my stories."

"Why ever not, honey?"

Mia took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. "I'm not very confident. The idea of people reading my stuff is... well, sort of terrifying to me."

"Why does it scare you so much?" asked Naveen as he and Tiana took a seat across from her.

Mia shrugged and averted her gaze. "Stuff happens. You get discouraged."

"Who in the world would ever discourage you, honey?" asked Tiana. "And don't you say that no-good Lady Tremaine. We know she was only posin' as a professor to snuff out your spark. I forbid you from puttin' any stock into what that old witch has to say."

"No. I mean, that certainly didn't help. But it's a little hard to take her seriously now that I know who she really was and what her game is."

"Then who, honey? I know it can't be the Dreamfinder. And surely not your Earth parents."

Mia shook her head. "My dad, Edward, has always been supportive. My mom... well, not so much. She's always trying to get me to do something that will get me, as she says, a 'more viable means of making a living.' But to be fair, she's never said anything to make me think I'm not goodat it."

"Well, from the bit that I read, I'd certainly say you're pretty good, honey."

"You really shouldn't make such an assessment after only reading a single paragraph," Mia mumbled.

"Well, I could make a better assessment if you'd let me read more."

Mia paled and lowered her head.

"Okay, okay," said Tiana in a soothing tone. She placed a hand on Mia's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "But what if _you_ read it _to_ me?"

Mia glanced up, eyes wide. "What? Oh. N-No, I... I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Well, it'd be the same thing, wouldn't it?"

Tiana frowned. "I suppose."

"Besides, me reading my own stuff aloud, it just seems... I don't know... egotistical?"

Naveen laughed. "I don't think you have an egotistical bone in your whole body, Miandra."

"That's right," agreed Tiana. "If anything, you could afford to be more confident."

"I suppose so. How do _you_ do it, Tiana?"

"How do I do what?"

"How are you so confident? I mean, you started this restaurant up all by yourself..."

"Ahem," said Naveen, clearing his throat.

Mia smiled apologetically. "With a little help from your husband, of course. But that was such a huge risk! Yet, at least from what the film tells me, you've always known exactly what you wanted to do and were so determined to do it. You never seemed to doubt that you could."

"Practice, honey," said Tiana with a smile. "My daddy taught me that. No matter what life throws at you, don't lose sight of your dreams. Never give up. Were there times I had doubts? Sure, same as everyone else. But you know what I do?"

Mia shook her head.

"Each mornin' I look at myself in the mirror and I say, 'Tiana, you got this, girl.'"

"You still do that?"

"To this very day."

"And it works?"

"It does. But like I said, it takes practice."

"I think I'm going to need endless amounts of practice," Mia sighed.

"Well, then," said Tiana, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Let's start now. After all, there's no time like the present."

"R-Right now? Look, Tiana, it's not that I don't appreciate it. But I told you I—"

"Don't worry, honey. I'm not gonna make you read it to me. These things have to be taken one step at a time. For now, why don't you just, you know, _tell_ me about your stories? You don't have to show them to me and you don't have to read them out loud. Just tell me what they're about."

Mia skewed her lips thoughtfully.

"Don't think too hard on it now," said Tiana. "Pick one of your stories and pretend for a moment that it's not something you wrote, but another story you read somewhere, perhaps in a bookshop. With me so far?"

Mia nodded.

"All right. Now pretend you really liked the story and you want to recommend it to me. And now I lean forward, quite intrigued..." Tiana leaned forward, her chin in her hand, giving Mia her full attention. "And I ask you, ' _What's it about?'_ "

Taking a deep breath, Mia began. She told Tiana the story of Captain Callaway and the girl, Laura, who loved him. Mia regaled her with how Laura, a young girl of 15, wished to confess her love to a man who was so out of her league, both in age and station. Then, one day, Laura, who worked as a barmaid in her grandfather's tavern, finally mustered up her courage to write the captain a love letter on the day he put out to sea. She hurried to the docks and snuck onto his ship to deliver the letter, only to discover a horrifying truth.

From somewhere in the kitchen, a bell rang. The top of the lunch hour had arrived, and story time was over.

"It's go-time," said Tiana, rising from her seat. "We'll have to take an intermission until tomorrow, but that was great, Miandra! How do you feel?"

Mia tilted her head thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't feel too bad."

"You see? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Mia shook her head, grinning.

"In that case, I expect you here the usual time tomorrow so you can finish telling me that story."

"Yeah," said Naveen with a teasing grin. "I wanna get to the steamy part."

Mia threw her sketchbook at him and he dodged it just in time.

~~~

The following day was a warmer and brighter one, and so Tiana's rooftop café was reopened for breakfast. Today, Figment joined Miandra on the roof, eating his fill of breakfast, much to Naveen's vexation.

"Really, Tiana, are you sure that free breakfast thing you offered Miandra should extend to Figgy? Look at him! He's eating us out of house and home!"

"Hush, honey," she whispered. "Just think of all that Professor Mercurial has done for us. 'Sides, it's only until Miandra's finished those paintings I commissioned."

"Well, I certainly hope Miandra paints faster than her dragon eats," Naveen muttered as he bounded away to serve the other patrons.

As Mia painted, she told Tiana the rest of the story of Captain Callaway and the young, heartsick Laura. Somehow it was much easier to get Mia to talk when she was painting. Occupied in such a pursuit, talking about her stories was suddenly like second nature. With every brush stroke, the words came spilling out. Even Figment was listening with relish.

"Wow, wow, wow, Miandra!" he said with his mouth full of hot cakes. "That story was so good! I bet the Dreamfinder would love to hear it!"

"You can't tell him, Figment!" exclaimed Mia, her paint brush slipping from her hand.

"Why not?"

"Well, because... because I'm not ready yet."

"But you told Tiana and Naveen and me," said Figment. "The Dreamfinder will be sad to know you told us but don't want to tell him."

"He's right, you know," said Tiana gently. "You should share them with your daddy, Miandra."

"But—"

"What's there to but about?" asked Tiana. "If you had the courage to tell me and Naveen about your story, you can certainly share it with the professor."

"But he's the Dreamfinder!"

"So? He'll like them all the more."

"Or he'll have high standards of what constitutes imagination," Mia insisted.

Tiana laughed. "Trust me, honey... Imagination is certainly _not_ something you're lackin' in. 'Sides, you don't have to read them or show them to him. You can start out the way you've done with me and Naveen. Just tell him about them. Do you think you can do that, Miandra?"

"I dunno..."

"I think your daddy would be hurt if you didn't."

"All right. I guess I'll try."

"Knowing the Dreamfinder, he's probably already snuck a peek at them when you weren't looking," Figment added helpfully.

Mia looked aghast.

"Hush you," said Tiana. "Here, have some more hotcakes." She stabbed some quarter-sized hotcakes with a fork and stuffed them into the dragon's mouth to silence him.

The discussion was dropped and Mia returned to her painting. The morning was waning as Tiana began to collect the laminated coffee menus from the café tables.

"So, Miandra," she said casually. "I was wondering about that other story of yours. The one I started to read the other day, about the chariot and the winged oxen and that girl... What was her name? Katerina?"

Figment glanced between Tiana and Mia. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tiana placed a finger to her lips and he quieted. Mia was very focused on finishing up her painting. It was the perfect time to get her to talk.

"Oh. That one. Yeah, that's also a love story." She paused in her brushstrokes to chew her lip, blushing. "I suppose that's what most of them are. It's a little embarrassing."

"Not at all," said Tiana. "Romance is my favorite genre. Please, won't you tell me a little more about it?"

And so, it went. Every day, after Blair left for the Institute, Mia went to Tiana's Palace for breakfast. As she painted, she weaved her tales for Tiana, Naveen, and Figment. Even Louis, the alligator, had taken to listening in. But they weren't the only ones. Mia's stories had caught the attention of an unknown interloper.

Day after day, hiding out of sight, perched atop one of the smoke stacks high above the roof, the interloper sat, spying on the pretty girl and listening to her tales. He wanted to be sure this was the one he wanted. Granted, he was pretty certain the day before, but he didn't particularly feel like tangling with the big, noisy alligator that was sitting in. But today was the day. Today he was going to claim his new storyteller.

At the top of the lunch hour, Tiana walked Mia to the front door, seeing her out. "Really, Miandra. I do mean it. People are starting to ask about them," she said, referring to Miandra's four paintings which she'd wasted no time framing hanging up in the restaurant. "They absolutely love them!"

"Thanks," said Mia, embarrassed.

"No, Miandra. Thank, _you._ Actually, I was thinking, with how popular they are and all, perhaps we could work something out. If you continue to do commissions for me, I could put your art on consignment. People could buy them and I'd give you a cut of the profits."

"Really? Wow! That'd be pretty awesome." Then, hesitating, she continued uncertainly. "But I don't know... Would people really be willing to pay money for them? I'm not sure they're quite _that_ —"

"Ah, ah, ah, Miandra," Tiana scolded. "Remember? Confidence! Now what do you say?"

Mia obediently turned to face the restaurant window. She took a deep breath and spoke to her reflection as Tiana had taught her.

"Miandra, you've got this, girl."

"That's better," said Tiana, pulling her in for a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Same time, same place!" said Mia, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders as she stepped out onto Main Street. It was another beautiful day, and Mia looked forward to enjoying it to the fullest.

"So, what do you wanna do today, Figment?"

"Well, if we use our imaginations, we can come up with all _kinds_ of fun things to do!" he cried as he took a hold of his feet and did a somersault in midair, giggling at his own useless answer.

Mia rolled her eyes. "You always say that. You're forgetting I don't have that kind of power. I can't just conjure fun out of thin air— Ahh!"

Mia's sentence ended in a scream as a pair of hands seized her beneath the arms and lifted her off the ground. The cobblestone beneath her feet grew smaller and smaller as she was hoisted higher and higher. Mia's stomach did a nervous cartwheel as she gazed at her own legs dangling so far above the ground.

"Huh?" said Figment as he came out of his somersault. "Miandra? Where'd you go?"

At the sound of Mia's scream, Tiana ran back outside. "Miandra? Figment, where did...?" Tiana glanced up and gasped. "Peter!" she exclaimed. "Peter, you put her down this instant! You hear me, young man? You put her down _right now_!"

"Sorry, lady. But this girl's coming with me!"

"P-Peter?" said Mia.

_As in Peter Pan_?

Something in Mia's heart stirred. It was a feeling she'd not felt since she was a little girl, listening to her father read _Peter Pan_ to her as a bedtime story. Slowly, Mia tilted her head and gazed up. She could just make out the figure of her captor. But with the bright sunlight shining behind him like a heavenly halo, his features were cast in shadow, and he was merely a silhouette against the afternoon sun.

Tiana placed her hands on her hips and glared up at the boy. "You can't go scoopin' up girls and whiskin' them away to Neverland without their consent, Peter! Don't you remember the last time? You almost started a war with Paridon! Now put her down immediately!"

But Peter didn't seem interested in obeying.

"Miandra!" cried Figment, puffing out his chest and looking like he was readying himself for a fight, but Tiana stopped him.

"Figment, hurry! Get the Dreamfinder! He's the only one who can stop him! Hurry!"

Figment glanced helplessly between Mia and Tiana, as though debating the wisdom of Tiana's words. Finally, he spun around and shot off for the Imagination Institute.

Meanwhile, Mia was starting to panic as Peter lifted her higher and higher into the air. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Please! This is high! This is very, very high! Please don't drop me!"

Youthful laughter echoed above her head. "Relax. I won't drop you on purpose!"

"Don't drop me on accident either!"

The boy continued to laugh, but he gave no indication of dropping her. He was deceptively strong.

"Hey, Tink!"

A shimmering golden orb flitted about his head, tinkling questioningly.

"Make a path to Neverland!"

With the sound of soft, tinkling bells, the glowing ball sped out ahead of them and began to fly in a circle, creating a shimmering, golden hoop in the air. Mia gaped. _A portal?!_ Tinkerbell could create magical portals?!

Peter hoisted Mia higher into his arms, eliciting another frightened scream from her, and more laughter from Peter. With his arms around her waist from behind, he held her closer to him, her back flush to his front. This felt a little more secure, but Mia was still freaking out. Everything was happening way too fast.

"W-Wait a sec!" she cried, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

After giving Tiana a rude salute, Peter zoomed through the shimmering portal with his prize.


	22. Peter Pan

_I know a place where dreams are born  
_ _And time is never planned  
_ _It's not on any chart  
_ _You must find it with your heart  
_ _Never Never Land_

  
~ "Never Never Land" by Jule Styne, Betty Comden, & Adolph Green   
Peter Pan, The Broadway Musical

Flying through the magical portal was like being inside a kaleidoscope. There were ever-changing shapes of all sizes and colors. Some were abstract, while others were more identifiable. Mia thought she could make out something that looked like a crocodile, a clock, a ship, trees, and mountains. She could almost hear the sound of children singing. However, it was over as soon as it had begun.

As they broke through to the other side, Mia was greeted with a bird's-eye view of a landmass which she'd only ever seen in films and storybook pictures. It was the island! The fabled island that every child has dreamed of exploring until adulthood crushes such impossible fantasies. Mia's hands moved to Peter's arms, which were shockingly toned, gripping them tightly as she gazed at the view below.

"Oh my God," she murmured. "Neverland! It's really Neverland!"

The sight of the beautiful, majestic island lay claim to Mia's heart and sense of adventure. Two weeks ago, it was a magical but impossible place from her childhood that only existed in stories. And now it was real. There was a scent in the air, one which was quite foreign to Earth or even Cerenopia. Mia could smell the winds of adventure all around her. The salty smell of the sea, the sulfuric scent of cannon fire, and the smoky aroma of native bonfires all combined to form one amazing musk that made her heart pound. There, just below them, was Mermaids' Lagoon, and in the distance a column of smoke rose from the treetops at the northwestern part of the island. That must be the Indian village!

_Island natives,_ Mia corrected herself.

She must at all costs avoid the stereotypes of the late ambassadors, who mistakenly confused Native Americans for Indians. And certainly, _these_ island natives could not be Native Americans, but perhaps something akin to a tribal culture of a bygone era. Of course, Mia also had not forgotten the island's other notorious inhabitants. Pirates. However, she was quite relieved to see that there was no sign of the Jolly Roger. Perhaps Captain Hook was sailing elsewhere. Personally, Mia hoped he was on an extended vacation.

As they soared serenely over mountains and lush forests, Mia was finally feeling more comfortable being flown through the air until Peter suddenly called out, "Let's go, Tink!" and shot down towards the island at full speed. Mia's stomach jumped and her heart leapt into her throat. It was like being on a thrill ride at an amusement park; only this was no amusement park. The only thing keeping her from a fatal crash to the ground was a little boy who seemed to delight in frightening people.

"Woah! Slow down!" Mia screamed, clutching at Peter's arms as the ground came up to meet them far too quickly.

Peter let out a mischievous laugh and came to an abrupt halt. Then he let her go, dropping her a whopping three feet to the greenery below. Mia's scream was cut short as she landed on her back. The lush foliage cushioned her fall in a way that defied physics.

More youthful laughter rang in her ears as a pair of feet touched the ground in front of her. A hand lowered, offering to help her up. Mia begrudgingly accepted the hand offered to her. Despite this gentlemanly gesture, she was pretty miffed at him. Mia was ready to give him a piece of her mind until he pulled her up and she came face to face with him. Mia gasped and drew back her hand.

"Wh-Who are you?"

The boy - or young man, from the look of it - frowned at her. "Seriously? You and that lady back on Main Street both said my name just a couple minutes ago. And people say _I_ have a short memory. Sheesh!"

Carefully, Mia looked him up and down. The lean body was clothed in an earthy-toned patchwork of woven leaves. This and the mess of reddish-brown hair and subtly pointed ears was enough evidence that the person who'd kidnapped her and flown her to Neverland was exactly who he ought to be. But that sculpted chest, those toned arms, and the fact that she was eye to eye with him, a boy of her height, was throwing her for a loop. And that mischievous elfish face, while certainly youthful, was not that of a mere child. This boy looked like he could be a senior in high school. In fact, Mia wouldn't have been surprised if she came across a picture of this boy in an old yearbook.

"Well?" he said, crossing his arms impatiently. "Aren't you gonna say anything?"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to stare. It's just... Well, you're a good deal older than I expected."

Peter visibly bristled. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm not old! I'm just the way I'm supposed to be, which is just the way I wanna be!" With that, he spun around and stalked off. "Hmph!" he said with a derisive snort. "Older than she expected..."

Mia stood gaping after him. It seemed she had offended him. She hadn't meant to, but perhaps she should've foreseen this. She really ought to know better. Hadn't she learned anything about Peter Pan from all the times her father had read the book to her as a bedtime story? Peter was obviously very sensitive about anything to do with aging and growing up.

As he disappeared behind the line of trees, Mia suddenly began to panic. She had chased him away and now he'd left her all alone on Neverland! She didn't know her way around, and who knew when the pirates might return or if the crocodile might decide to go looking for a midday snack? Quickly, Mia scurried after him.

"Peter, wait a sec!" she called. "I didn't mean it like that! I'm sorry!"

There was no sign of him. Her heart pounded a frightened Morse code against her ribcage as Mia walked through the woods, searching desperately for him.

"You're certainly not old!" she called, hoping to flatter him into returning to her. "Not at all! You're what? Sixteen? Seventeen? That's a great age! You're a happy medium! Not an adult _or_ a child. You're somewhere in between!"

Somewhere in between... Now where had she heard that phrase before? It was just at the fringe of her memory, but she couldn't quite place it. In fact, Mia felt kind of odd, like she was unable to recall certain things that should have come quite easily to her. Even though Peter had only been joking, perhaps his comment of a short memory was more on the mark than she realized. But this was no time to be fretting over things like that. She needed to find Peter. She didn't want to be lost and alone in the wilderness of Neverland.

"Peter!" she called out again. "Please come back! You're prefect the way you are! You're nowhere close to being a grown-up and you can get away with all kinds of childish things. But at the same time, you're big enough to do a lot of cool stuff that little kids can't do. That's great, isn't it?"

"What sorts of stuff?"

The voice came directly behind her, causing Mia to jump. She spun around and found herself once more face-to-face with Peter, only he was floating upside down. Mia placed a hand to her heart and tried to slow her breathing to a steadier pace.

"Well," she said, thinking quickly, for she did not want him to leave her again. "You're stronger, faster, and smarter than children, but you don't have to worry about adult responsibilities either. You're old enough to drive a car if you want to, and go on dates and--"

Suddenly, Mia got a face-full of glittering fury. Tinker Bell, close-up, was a pretty little thing with pointed ears, short, stylistically choppy hair and a green leafy ensemble. She unleashed a string of furious chimes and tinklings at Mia. She even drew a tiny dagger from her hip that looked like it might give Mia a paper cut at best, but Peter quickly grabbed the angry pixie and yanked her away.

"Tink! Don't be like that! Besides, you don't get to say what I can and can't do! I can go on dates if I wanna!"

_He doesn't even know what a date is,_ Mia realized, but she didn't dare say this out loud.

Tinker Bell wriggled out of Peter's grasp. Then, blowing a raspberry at the both of them, she shot off over the treetops.

"She'll be back," said Peter, unconcerned. "She got like this when I brought the other lady here, too. I don't know what her problem is. Don't pay her any mind. She never follows through on her threats."

"Wait... She was _threatening_ me?"

"So what else about me?" he asked, drawing uncomfortably close.

"W-Well, um, y-you're... you're handsome. And you'll never get old and out of shape, and--"

"You think I'm handsome?"

Mia appraised him once more. His leafy tunic did not quite leave as much to the imagination as Disney's version. The top was barely a tunic at all, but more just an ivy cross belt which descended into a leafy skirt which hung off his hips in a way that would've given Walt Disney a stroke. Beneath, he wore a pair of earthy-toned leggings and brown boots, but otherwise, he was quite bare. The entire ensemble showcased his pecs and abs, which were sculpted much in the same way as that of her high school crush, who'd been the captain of the swim team and had looked much the way Peter did now. Mia tried to feel less awkward by reminding herself that Peter was still more clothed than Blake Bennett had ever been in his speedo.

With a shaky breath, Mia replied, "Y-Yeah. Definitely."

Grinning triumphantly, Peter lifted off his feet and beat proudly upon his chest as he unleashed a mighty crow. Mia felt the forest respond. In fact, she could almost feel the entire island quivering as though it were a living thing and Peter's crow the sound that breathed life into it. It was frightening, but thrilling. As he settled back to his feet in front of her, Mia couldn't help marveling at him.

"Peter, you're more amazing than I ever imagined you," she said in a sort of trance-like reverence.

Peter placed his hands on his hips and gave her a cocky grin. "Of course I am!"

"But you could afford to be a little less conceited," she said tetchily.

"Conceited?" he asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "Not me! It's just that I am what I am."

"And you're you," said Mia, grinning. It was just like the lyrics from James Barrie's play.

"Exactly!" said Peter, taking her hand. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?"

"To my hideout so you can meet the Lost Boys."

"Peter, wait a second," said Mia, digging her heels into the ground.

Peter stopped and turned to face her. "What's the matter?"

"It's just that this is all happening so fast. I don't even really know what's going on. Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, that's easy. I brought you here to tell stories. I've been listening to all the tales you've been telling to that other lady, and I just _had_ to bring you here so you can tell stories to the Lost Boys. We've been without a good storyteller ever since the last one left. She was _really_ good at it, but everyone got mad, so she had to leave."

"You like my stories?"

"Of course! Otherwise I wouldn't have brought you here... uh, um... What was your name again?"

"What do you mean _again_? You never asked me to begin with," said Mia, suddenly feeling rather indignant.

"Oh," said Peter. "In that case, we ought to introduce ourselves properly." He stepped back and bowed elegantly to her. "Hello. I'm Peter Pan. Who are you?"

Grinning, Mia did her best to curtsy, feeling very much like Wendy from the play. "It's nice to meet you, Peter. My name is Miandra, but you can call me Mia, if you like."

"I do like it, and so I will call you that!" Peter proclaimed joyously.

"So, who was the other lady you brought here? The one that had to leave when everyone got mad?"

"Hmm..." said Peter, scrunching up his face. "I can't remember her name, but she was from Paridon. Real pretty, too."

_From Paridon..._

Could he be talking about Wendy? But hadn't Tiana said something about Peter almost starting a war with Paridon over it? Would Wendy Darling really be important enough to incite a war? Perhaps there was another girl he'd taken, someone important. Perhaps even royalty. Who might she know that would be royalty from Paridon? Suddenly, Mia had an inkling. 

"Was her name Belle?"

Peter's thoughtful expression changed to one of enlightenment. "That's it!" he said pointing at her as though she'd solved some great riddle. "Belle! She was a great storyteller! She knew all kinds of stories!"

"And you apparently almost started a war over her."

Peter shrugged. "I guess she was important or something. The prince of Paridon and the prime minister were really angry, so I had to take her back."

_Then where does that leave Wendy?_ Mia wondered. Perhaps she'd come before Belle. The way Tiana had talked, it sounded like Peter had a penchant for picking up girls and taking them to Neverland.

"Actually, Peter, I'm pretty sure my father will also be very upset that you took me. He's probably worried sick."

A dark expression flitted across Peter's face. Suddenly, he took her hand and pulled her closer to him. Mia gazed wide-eyed into his mischievous, elven face. His eyes shimmered; eyes which couldn't decide whether they wanted to be green or blue, or maybe a different color altogether.

_He's beautiful,_ thought Mia, suddenly breathless.

"Don't worry about fathers, Mia," he said in a soft, almost seductive tone. "Don't worry about anyone. Just come with me. Come with me and tell your stories."

The voice with which he spoke brought a blush to Mia's cheeks. She was quite certain no other boy had ever spoken to a girl quite like this before. This voice belonged only to Pan, and it held a sort of power over her, as it had on many before her. Thoughts of Blair and responsibilities instantly fled, and she replied in a trance-like whisper.

"O-Okay. S-Sure. If... If you're really that interested."

Grinning victoriously, Peter pulled her along through the woods. The forest was dense, and though it was broad daylight, it was much darker beneath the thick foliage of the Neverwood. Streaks of sunlight filtered in through the canopy of leaves, giving the atmosphere a sort of green hue. Ahead of them, a golden ball of light flitted about. It seemed Tinker Bell had returned to lead the way to their destination. Mia wondered if she was done being mad at them.

Peter glanced over his shoulder at Mia as he leapt nimbly over a fallen log. "How many stories do you know, Mia? You won't run out, will you?"

Mia wondered what he'd do if she said yes. She almost feared his response. "Well, I know lots. It's not exactly easy to count how many. As for running out..." She scrambled over the log, doing her best to keep up with him. "Not necessarily. I mean, I make up a lot of them myself. As long as you have an imagination, there's a plethora of stories just waiting to be spun."

Wow. She sounded _so_ much like Blair just now. The reminder of her biological father brought her to a sudden halt. She'd almost forgotten about him again. "Look, Peter, I don't mind telling you guys stories and all, but is there at least a way I could get a message to my father?"

Peter spun towards her, looking perturbed again. "You don't need to worry about fathers... or mothers... or anyone else for that matter. You're perfectly safe here." A cocky but also quite handsome smile graced his face. "Especially when you've got me. No one would dare cross me!" He drew a dagger from his belt for emphasis. "If they do, I'll run them through!"

Mia couldn't help smiling. He was just so... Peter Pan. However, his assurances that she was safe here wasn't exactly what she'd been concerned about when she brought up her father. But now she wondered if it should be. Did she truly have any business being on Neverland? Perhaps it might be best to convince Peter to return her to Cerenopia. After all, Neverland must surely come with the good and the bad. If Peter was here, then somewhere, so too was Captain Hook. And Captain Hook was one of the Dark Ones.

Peter, however, wasn't interested in following this discourse any longer. Instead, he pressed on through the trees.

"C'mon! It's further this way!"

As fears and worries plagued Mia's adult mind, the young, devil-may-care teenage boy took off through the trees as swift as a deer and disappearing just as quickly. Mia ran in the direction he'd gone, calling after him.

"Peter! Where did you go?"

Trembling and expecting a pirate to pop out from behind a tree at any moment, Mia pressed on, jumping at the slightest sound. She walked into a dense thicket, believing this to be the way Peter had gone.

"Oh, this is just freakin' typical," she muttered. "It's a wonder Wendy and her brothers even survi-"

There was a snapping sound beneath her and the pile of leaves she'd stepped on suddenly gave way. Mia's words ended in a scream as she went careening down a spiraling slide made of roots and dirt into the depths of an underground lair.

"OOF!" She landed on her back in a soft pile of leaves at the bottom. For a moment she simply lay there in a disoriented heap, sitting up only at the sound of a sudden commotion.

"RAAHH!"

"INTRUDER!"

"WEAPONS, LADS! WEAPONS!"

"I've got a stick!"

"You call that a weapon?" asked two voices in unison.

Fearing an attack, Mia held her backpack in front of her like a shield as she was soon surrounded by a ragtag bunch of young boys dressed in various assortments of patchwork cloth and animal skins. These boys were nothing like the homely-looking, animal jumpsuit-wearing children from Disney's animated film. These boys, though dirty and dressed to some degree in animal furs, were quite charming to gaze upon. Mia would even go as far as to call them cute.

_Well, what did you expect, Mia? For them to look like 1950s cartoon boys?_

Each was pointing a makeshift weapon at her. Mia lowered her backpack as she took in the sight of the young boys and what they considered weapons. She began to laugh. The boys exchanged glances. This soft, feminine laughter was hardly the laughter of an enemy. Their weapons began to lower, save for one tough-looking dark-haired boy at the forefront.

"Let me guess," said Mia. "Robin Hood's band of Merry Men, right?" She rose to her feet, brushing dirt off her clothes. "Please inform your leader that I don't take kindly to his ungentlemanly behavior, and if he wishes to keep me as a storyteller, there will be no more abandoning me in the woods and letting me fall down trap doors."

The boys all spoke at once. "A storyteller???"

"That's right!"

They spun around as Peter descended from an unseen entrance above with Tinker Bell flitting about his head.

"Be on your best behaviors, Lost Boys! For I've brought you all... a storyteller!"

The Lost Boys turned back to Mia, gazing at her with newfound respect - again, save for the one boy who seemed perpetually suspicious.

Mia crossed her arms and glared at Peter. She couldn't help pouting. When her father read James Barrie's story to her as a child, she'd always thought of Peter Pan as a charming sort of boy. But now, as an adult dealing with him personally, he was rather vexing.

"I'll only be your storyteller on the condition that you treat me more politely," she said crossly. "I don't like being left alone in strange woods only to fall down a hole in the ground. You could have escorted me here like a decent person instead of leaving me scared and alone. It wasn't very chivalrous of you."

Peter flew towards her, causing the Lost Boys to scatter to either side of them, before landing on his feet in front of her. "I would _never_ be ungallant to a girl!" he insisted.

Mia gave a derisive snort. "Yeah, well, all evidence to the-"

Peter drew very close, so close that Mia could smell the intoxicating scent of adventure on him. Again, she was struck by how beautiful he was. He was almost feminine in his delicate features. But there was an intensity in his gaze that wasn't to be questioned or taken lightly.

"...contrary," Mia finished with a gulp.

When next he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

"From here on out, Mia, I won't treat you as anything less than a proper lady. I promise."

Something in Mia's chest stirred eagerly, and she was overcome by the sudden, ill-advised and inexplicable desire to kiss him. But just as she began to lean, Peter spun towards the Lost Boys with a stern expression.

"What're you doing? Stand down, the lot of you!"

The boys jumped to attention, some tossing their weapons away and others hiding them behind their backs as though they were never armed to begin with.

"She's no enemy," said Peter. "This is Mia." He gazed back at her with that beautiful, mischievous smile. "Our new storyteller!"

Ecstatic, the boys rushed past Peter and gathered around Mia to introduce themselves.

"Hi! I'm Curly!"

"I'm Nibs! I plan the battles!"

"Eya, Mia!" came a synchronized greeting from two identical twin boys.

The smallest boy approached, wide-eyed and curious. "H-Hello. I'm Too-"

But the silent and brooding dark-haired boy pushed him aside. "Wait!" he demanded, eyeing Mia suspiciously. "How do we even know she's a good storyteller?"

"Are you questioning my judgement?" Peter demanded, drawing his sword and stalking towards the boy.

"Woah, woah! Wait a sec," said Mia, stepping between Peter and the Lost Boy whose identity she'd already determined. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"What? I wasn't _really_ gonna kill him," said Peter, sheathing his sword and tossing a glare at the boy.

Mia turned to the boy. "You're Slightly, right?"

The boy gaped at her. "How'd you know?"

"Storytellers have to know these things," said Mia, drawing herself up importantly.

Murmurs of approval passed among the Lost Boys.

"Wow! She must be a _great_ storyteller, then!"

"Boy, I can't wait to hear her stories!"

"You'll stay and tell them, won't you?"

"Please say you'll stay!"

"All I'm sayin' is she oughtta prove it first," said Slightly, crossing his arms.

"Hey, good idea!"

"Yeah! Let's hear a story now!"

"Please, Miss Mia! Tell us a story!"

"Make it a good one!"

Mia gulped. Talk about being put on the spot. Was she even ready for this? She'd only just gotten used to spinning yarns for Tiana and Naveen. But she didn't know these boys. Not really, anyway. She glanced helplessly at Peter, who took a seat in a throne-like bearskin chair, reclining like a king ready to watch a favorite entertainer. She'd get no help from him.

_Talk about trial by fire,_ she thought grimly.

But what if she couldn't come up with something to their liking? She was getting some serious _Lord of the Flies_ vibes here. She didn't want to risk disappointing them. Despite what Tiana might say, Mia didn't have enough faith in her own stories. Best to start with something she knew would be a winner with these young boys. And so, with seven pairs of eyes gazing up at her eagerly, she began.

"Um, a-a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..."

And so, Mia found herself regaling the Lost Boys with the Star Wars saga. Starting, of course, where the story should - at episode four, _A New Hope_. The irony was not lost on her, as Disney had in recent years acquired the Star Wars franchise. Thankfully, though, the tales within the Star Wars continuity were not inspired by events on Dizgaia. She shuddered to imagine what it'd be like to have to contend with Star Wars and Marvel villains in addition to the Dark Ones.

Mia recited the story as best she could. Some of the dialogue escaped her, and she wasn't able to recite it completely verbatim, but she felt she'd done her father, Edward, who was a big Star Wars fan, proud. Moreover, she had the boys' rapt, undivided attention. They were really into it. With newfound confidence, Mia began to act out a bit of the story as she told it, right down the lightsaber fights, for which Nibs eagerly tossed her a stick to use as a prop. Peter's sparkling, ever-changing eyes were on her as she fought her pretend foe, and she knew she had his approval. When she finished the story, seven mouths hung agape.

"Is that how it _really_ ends?" asked cynical Slightly.

"Doesn't seem right, does it?" said Nibs.

"Yeah, what gives?" asked Curly. "Darth Vader got away and Luke hasn't even become a real Jedi yet!"

"And what about vengeance?" asked Peter, rising to his feet and brandishing his sword. "Obi-Wan said Darth Vader killed Luke's father, and then he killed Obi-Wan. Isn't Luke going to avenge him?"

"Well, you see," said Mia, "It's called a _trilogy._ That means it's a three-part story. They're all connected, but you're supposed to tell them separately."

"Ohhh... That makes sense," said Nibs.

"Ah. That's right," said Peter, sheathing his sword and nodding his head in an authoritative manner. "A trilogy. I know all about trilogies. I just forgot, is all."

"Tell the next part!" exclaimed Tootles.

"Yeah! What happens next? We wanna hear!" shouted the Twins.

"Well, I mean, I guess I could tell you now. But they're long stories, and you really _are_ supposed to have some time between each one to sort of, you know, digest them properly. Even George Lucas, the man who made up the stories and turned them into movies, took three years between each telling."

"You're gonna make us wait three years?" asked the Twins, scandalized.

"How long is three years?" asked Tootles. On an island where nobody ever aged, time was a confusing concept.

"Well, of course I wouldn't keep you waiting _that_ long," said Mia. "I just thought-"

"You don't know the rest of the story, do you?" accused Slightly, crossing his arms. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Of course I know it!" said Mia indignantly. With how often she'd watched the original _Star Wars_ trilogy with her father, she almost knew it by heart.

"Then tell it now," Slightly challenged.

The other boys pumped their fists into the air and began a chant of, "Tell it! Tell it! Tell it! Tell it!"

For the second time, Mia was reminded of _Lord of the Flies,_ and gulped nervously. However, a loud whistle from Peter brought all to order.

"Hey! Cool it, boys! If we keep Mia cooped up here all day long telling stories, she'll get bored and won't wanna tell us any more of 'em. Let's go outside and play a game!"

"Oh yeah! A game!"

"What sort of game should we play, Peter?"

"Let's play Star Wars," said Peter, grinning.

"Oh yeah! I wanna be Luke Skywalker!"

"No, me!"

"Nuh-uh!"

The ensuing argument for who would get to play Luke was swiftly ended by another sharp whistle from Peter. " _I_ will be Luke," he said, crossing his arms with his feet apart. "After all, I'm the leader _and_ the best swordfighter. So, it only makes sense."

No one dared argue with Peter.

"Then I get to be Han Solo!"

"No, me!"

"Nuh-uh!"

The second argument was quickly solved as Peter assigned them parts. Poor little Tootles was made to be Darth Vader, which, to Mia, didn't really make much sense. However, she recalled back in elementary school it was a common trope among her friends to force the youngest among them to play the bad guy. Her friends with younger siblings always made their little brothers and sisters play the villain. Along with this thought, came a memory of a quote spoken by Captain Hook in J.M. Barrie's play.

_"The strongest always plays Peter. They make the baby play Hook."_

It was somehow very apropos.

"And Mia will be Princess Leia!" Peter claimed, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Why's that?" countered Mia, who would much prefer to play the part of Han Solo or Obi-Wan. "Because I'm the only girl here?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, that and you're pretty. Didn't you say Leia was pretty?"

"Y-Yeah," Mia stammered bashfully. "You mean to say... That is, you think I'm pretty?" Her voice cracked and she blushed.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Haven't you ever looked in a mirror? Sheesh!"

He grabbed her by the hand and led her out of the hideout with a tumultuous stampede of excited Lost Boys behind them.

~~~

The boys and Mia played _Star Wars_ late into the evening. Mia did her best to play the role of Princess Leia while also closely observing Peter. He almost seemed to age in reverse as he played pretend games with his mates. Instead of looking like a teenage boy of 16, as when she first met him, now, playing in the dwindling light of the setting sun, he looked more like a 12-year-old. Mia was fascinated, but she dared not question Peter about it. After all, commenting on his age hadn't gone over very well the first time.

When they finally returned, sweaty and exhausted, to the hideout, it was time for another game. Suppertime. It was a game because... well... they didn't actually eat anything. Mia watched the boys pretend to chow down on a plethora of delicious foods. Never once did they seem dissatisfied to not be having the real thing. Mia reluctantly went through the motions with them, but her stomach rumbled loudly in protest to this torturous game.

"Don't worry," whispered Peter, who seemed to have returned to his older self. "I'll make sure to get you some real food to eat." Then, to his crew, "Keep it up, boys! I want to see those plates clean or it's to bed without dessert for the lot of you!"

The boys pretended to eat more fervently, and Mia continued to watch, baffled. When they started in on "dessert," Peter quietly ushered Mia away from the table and led her outside.

"You must be starving," he said as they stepped out into the evening air.

Mia nodded.

"Me, too," he said, reaching into the knothole of a hollowed tree and pulling out a bow and quiver of arrows. He slung the quiver onto his back.

"Come on. This way."

Mia followed Peter through the darkening wood. With the bow and quiver of arrows on his back, he looked a little less like the Peter Pan she was familiar with and more like Link from Legend of Zelda. Mia blushed at this reminder of yet another childhood crush and hurried after the teenage huntsman. He led her to a small clearing in the woods, well-lit by the light of the full moon above them. Was the moon bigger on Neverland, or was it just her imagination?

Before Mia could inquire about it, Peter put a finger to his lips and motioned her up a tree. Confused, but not daring to speak aloud, Mia grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted herself up. Peter followed nimbly behind her. When they'd gone as high as he deemed necessary, he motioned for her to stop.

"What now?" Mia whispered as they sat side by side on a branch halfway up the tree.

"Now we wait," Peter whispered back. "But you must be quiet."

Mia did as she was told and waited in silence. But for what, she didn't know. After what Mia determined to be about 10 minutes, Peter silently put an arrow to his bow. Mia tensed. Was it an enemy? She followed his gaze and squinted into the moonlit meadow to see what he was looking at, but she couldn't make anything out. With a sudden twang, Peter released the arrow. It must have struck its target, for he leapt to his feet with a triumphant exclamation. He offered Mia a hand, and when she took it, he lifted her into his arms and flew down from the tree, alighting upon the grass.

"What was it?" Mia hissed. "What did you shoot?"

"Why are you still whispering?" asked Peter. "There's no need to be quiet now. I've just killed our supper."

"Oh. I thought we were just playing another game."

"We can play games later. First, we've got to eat." He lifted his kill from the ground so Mia could see. He held a rabbit by its ears. An arrow was sticking in its side and its fur was matted with blood.

"Oh God," said Mia, putting a hand over her mouth.

"Don't worry, Mia. It was a direct hit. He died instantly. Didn't feel a thing."

Mia tried not to be sick.

"What's wrong? You're not want of those weird people who only eats vegetables, are you?"

Mia shook her head. "No. I'm not a vegetarian. I've just never seen my food killed in front of me before."

"Oh. Are you squeamish?"

"A little."

"Then you'd better not watch."

"Watch what?"

"I have to skin the rabbit, Mia."

Mia's face paled. "Oh. R-Right."

"I know! Why don't you go collect some firewood while I prep the rabbit?"

"Sure."

"Just don't go too far, all right?"

"Why?" asked Mia, though she had no intentions of wondering off and getting herself lost. "Is it dangerous?"

"This time of night, it might be. There could be natives about."

"You think they'd harm me?"

"If they think you're an enemy. There's also Mr. Tick Tock."

"W-Who's Mr. Tick-Tock?" Mia asked, though she had a sinking suspicion she already knew the answer.

"The crocodile. He doesn't usually come this far inland, but you never know," said Peter with a shrug.

"Great," she muttered. "Thanks for not scaring me or anything."

"You're welcome," said Peter cheerfully as he sat down to prepare the rabbit.

Mia quickly turned away before he could begin. She definitely did not want to watch. She heard a suspicious snapping sound from behind her. Trying not to think about it, Mia walked to the fringe of the woods to collect as many dry sticks as she could find. She did not want to return while Peter was still skinning the rabbit. When Peter called out her name, she returned to him with an armful of wood. She was relieved to see he'd finished the rabbit. He had it skewered on a makeshift spit, though Mia tried her best not to look at it.

"Can you make a fire?" he asked her.

Mia shook her head.

"That's okay. I'll do it."

Mia watched, fascinated, as Peter built a tinder nest of leaves and bark. With his dagger, he made a notch in some wood. Then, using a stick as a spindle, he rolled it tirelessly between his palms until there was a spark and an ember. The fire spread to the woodpile, and soon they had before them a full-fledged campfire.

"Wow," said Mia. "Who would've thought it? Peter Pan, a regular boy scout."

"A what?"

"Never mind."

With the fire started, Peter began to turn the spit. Mia marveled at how resourceful he was. Of course, living a rather wild life in the wildness of Neverland, she supposed he'd have to be. Yet somehow, watching him do all this, it made him seem more grown-up. Though she knew better than to say this out loud.

A cool breeze picked up and Mia moved closer to the fire.

"Are you cold?" Peter asked.

"A little."

"Sit closer to me."

Blushing, Mia did as he bade. "Aren't _you_ cold," she asked, glancing pointedly at his bare chest.

Peter shook his head. "I'm used to it."

Mia and Peter sat shoulder to shoulder, their skin barely touching as he roasted their supper. Mia not only felt the warmth from the blazing fire, but she could also feel a curious sort of warmth radiating off Peter as well. It was very soothing. They sat in silence for a while, and Mia wondered why he didn't say anything. It seemed peculiar for Peter to be so quiet. Up until now he'd been so boisterous and energetic, bossing the boys around and gloating to her any chance he got. Now, this strange silence felt... awkward.

"So, uh, where's Tinker Bell?" asked Mia, trying to make conversation.

"Probably sulking in her little apartment."

"Oh. That's my fault, I suppose."

"She'll get over it," said Peter. "She always does."

"After they leave, you mean?"

Peter glanced up suddenly from the fire. Mia didn't quite understand the look he gave her, but she thought perhaps he didn't know what she meant.

"I mean when the girls you bring here leave, Tinker Bell mellows out again."

Peter returned his gaze to the fire without answering her. Mia felt a strange coldness coming off of him, but she didn't dare move. She bit her lip and tried not to shiver as she kept her gaze on the flickering flames.

When the rabbit was finished, Peter took it off the spit and cut it, giving half to Mia, who tried to ignore the lurching feeling in her stomach at the thought of eating it. But it would be rude to refuse it, and as she took a bite, she found that it tasted quite good and she realized just how hungry she'd been. She began to eat more eagerly, so famished that she barely gave a thought to the rather uncouth manner she was eating. But Peter didn't seem to mind. They were halfway through their meal when Mia realized she had yet to thank him.

"Thank you, Peter," she said, smiling tentatively. His silence had continued to unnerve her, and she was worried that she may have done something to offend him. But he smiled back, showing her she need not worry.

"Of course, Mia. I wouldn't let you starve. I'll take good care of you while you're here. I promise."

Why did his words send a hot shiver through her core? Doing her best to ignore this feeling, Mia asked, "What about the Lost Boys? Do you take care of them, too? I mean, it just seems a little unfair, doesn't it? Us eating real food while they're back there eating pretend food. Won't they be hungry?"

Peter paused and lowered his gaze. Mia could see the firelight flickering in his green eyes as though they were the glassy facets of some brilliant emerald.

"No," he said quietly. "They won't."

"Surely you can't be that near-sighted, Peter. Think about it. If _you_ get hungry and _I_ get hungry, other people get hungry, too."

She was a little frustrated over his childish ignorance. It was one thing for a boy of 10, but for a boy of 16, for a teenaged Peter Pan, such foolishness was simply embarrassing.

"No," Peter insisted, shaking his head, his gaze still lingering on the fire. "You see, Mia..." His voice dropped to a low murmur. "Dead boys don't need to eat."

Mia felt her body go cold. "Wh-What?"

"When you're dead," he explained, "You don't get hungry. There's no need to eat."

"W-Wait a minute... A-Are you telling me the Lost Boys... Are you telling me they're _ghosts???_ "

"No," said Peter, shaking his head. "Not exactly. They're the souls of dead children given physical bodies."

"I don't understand," said Mia tremulously.

"Before coming to Neverland, the Lost Boys were all young boys on the verge of death. When they died, I brought them here so they could live again - you know, to give them a second chance. No one deserves to die so young."

Mia wholeheartedly agreed. Death was tragic enough when it happened to anybody, but when it happened to children who'd barely gotten the chance to truly live...

Peter's eyes locked with Mia's. They burned with an intensity that rivaled the fire. "Perhaps you'll let _me_ tell _you_ a story, Mia."

Mia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Peter's gaze returned to the fire.

"It was long ago... before there were any Lost Boys on Neverland. I would leave Neverland from time to time, going to the other world to explore. Sometimes, I'd look in through windows to see what I could see, or hear what I could hear. One day, there was this boy, a very sick boy. He was on the verge of death, but his mother kept telling his father, 'I think he looks _slightly_ better today.' It was like that every time I stopped there. The mother would say 'He looks _slightly_ better today.' But one day, in spite of her words, the boy died. But before he did, when his parents weren't around, I went in through the window and I convinced him to come to Neverland, where he'd never have to worry about growing old... or dying... or anything awful ever again."

Mia watched Peter carefully as he told her this tragic story. As he did, he almost seemed to grow older. Suddenly, the words spoken appeared to be coming from the mouth of a young man in his 20s, a young man who had seen many sorrows in his time. Mia bit back a gasp. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light from the dwindling fire. It cast a strange pattern of shadows on his face, so Mia couldn't entirely be convinced of what she was seeing.

"When he died, I came for him and brought him here. And I did that every time I found some poor sick boy who just wouldn't get better. I wanted to show them the way to the next life, where they could be happy forever."

"But if it was their _souls_ you took to Neverland, then how did they... you know... get their bodies back?"

"When they got here, the magic of the island changed them, giving them the bodies they'd once had before they died. They exist in the physical world, but they're still dead, so they don't need to eat or drink or do any of that stuff that living people have to do."

He had a faraway look on his face, as though his mind were drifting back to a place far away and long ago, one which Mia could not reach.

"But the thing is, they don't know they're dead. Neverland has a way of making you forget things. They don't remember anything of their previous lives."

"And you've never told them?"

Peter shook his head. "No. I don't want to make them sad. I don't want them to hurt inside." He placed a hand over his heart. "Besides that, I don't know what would happen to them if they found out. You see, if they ever left Neverland, they'd lose their bodies, they'd lose their second chance at life and disappear forever. Perhaps some of the magic is in the fact that they've forgotten they're dead. If they remember..." Peter trailed off and shook his head. "I just don't know."

This revelation was like nothing Mia's mind, in all its imaginative wanderings, could have ever considered. The Lost Boys were dead; the souls of children given physical form and a second chance at life on a magical island where they would remain forever young. Mia certainly did not recall James Barrie's stories, or Walt Disney's adaptations, ever suggesting such a tragic origin to the Lost Boys. Or did she?

Mia recalled a curious passage in chapter one of James Barrie's novel where Mrs. Darling and Wendy were talking about Peter Pan. She never would have recalled it so offhandedly before, were it not for its sudden relevancy.

_At first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said to live with the fairies. There were odd stories about him, as that when children died, he went part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened._

Despite this bit of narration, Mia never would have suspected it of having a deeper meaning. She had thought it to be just a one-off mention, just a bit of fluff to pad out the story. That particular passage never seemed particularly significant to the rest of the plot. But now, Mia had to wonder if it might have some basis in truth. Then again, much as the Dreamfinder had said, and as she was discovering for herself - things on Dizgaia weren't always exactly like the books or the movies. ' _The truth,'_ someone once said, though she'd forgotten who, ' _exists somewhere in between_.'

Mia brought a hand to her mouth. She didn't trust herself to speak. Her eyes stung with tears as she choked on a sob.

"Mia, are you okay?" asked Peter, leaning towards her. "Does something hurt?"

"I-I'm okay."

"But you're crying!"

"Because it's just so sad!"

"No!" said Peter, suddenly looking panicked and very much 16 again. "Don't be sad! _Please_ don't be sad! I don't allow sadness!"

"Peter, you can't outlaw sadness," said Mia, wiping at her eyes. "I'm certain you feel it yourself. I could see it in your eyes while you talked about the Lost Boys. It's okay. There's no shame in it. Sadness is a natural human emotion."

"But Mia, I am _so_ much more than human," he told her, his eyes positively smoldering in the light of the dwindling fire.

Mia blinked wonderingly at him. Another Captain Hook quote from J.M. Barrie's play rang out in her mind.

_'Pan, who and what art thou?'_

This was something she, too, wished to know, though she was almost too frightened to find out. Perhaps it was better not to ask.

"I've never told anyone about that before," said Peter, poking thoughtfully at the fire with a stick. "There's just something about you..." He trailed off as he turned to face her with another worried expression. "Promise me you won't tell them! I don't want them to go away forever! Promise me, Mia!"

"I won't, Peter. I promise."

"Do you swear it?"

Mia made a crossing motion over her heart. "I swear. I'd never tell them that. I wouldn't want to hurt them for the world. But, oh... those poor boys! That's just so awful!"

"It doesn't have to be awful, Mia," said Peter matter-of-factly. "To die can be an awfully big adventure, depending on where you go after."

"Like Never-Neverland?" asked Mia, with a grin.

"Like Never-Neverland," said Peter, grinning back.

"Peter," she said, giving him a soft smile, "I'm really glad you found them and brought them here."

Peter returned her smile with a dazzling one of his own. "Yeah. Me, too."

Mia drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she gazed into the dying embers. In all the stories, Peter was often portrayed as cocky and self-absorbed, and she'd witnessed it herself today. However, she could also see that he was so much more than that. He was so much deeper than any story that had been told about him. What he did for the Lost Boys was such a selfless, compassionate act. No matter what airs he put on, it seemed Peter had a sympathetic side and truly cared for the Lost Boys.

Peter gave her a gentle prod. "Hey... Whatchya' thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh. I was just thinking what a wonderful boy you are."

Her words must have greatly pleased him, for Peter puffed out his chest and let out a mighty crow.

~~~

The following morning, Mia regaled the Lost Boys with part two of the original _Star Wars_ trilogy, _The Empire Strikes Back._ She stood before the seated boys, six pairs of wide eyes gazing up at her. Peter sat a small distance away from the group, lazing about in his bearskin chair, like a prince presiding over his subjects. Sometimes it was difficult to tell if he was truly paying attention, but there was a curious little quirk in the corner of his mouth as Mia told her stories. With the boys' rapt attention, she recited the most iconic scene of the film.

"'Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father,' said Vader. Luke's lip curled into a furious snarl. 'He told me enough,' he said, clinging to the hanging machinery and holding to it for dear life. 'He told me you killed him!' But 'No,' says Vader." Mia paused for dramatic suspense as the boys hung on her every word. "'I am your father.'"

The boys let out a collective gasp.

Oh, to be young and naïve to pop culture references. Mia was a little envious. By the time she'd first watched _The Empire Strikes Back,_ that line had so permeated pop culture that every child could recite it. Thus, she'd known the truth long in advance. The Lost Boys' reactions, however, were very gratifying.

"WHAT?!"

"No way! I thought he was a mech... a mechan... one of those metal men!"

"Yeah! Like... like a robot!"

"So Obi-Wan lied to him? That's awful! He should've told him the truth!"

"I certainly never saw _that_ coming."

"Of course, Vader is Luke's father!" called Peter from his throne. "I knew it the _whole_ time!"

The Twins gazed rapturously at Peter, in awe of his cleverness.

"Whoaaa..." they said in unison.

"Amazing!" exclaimed Curly. "How'd you figure it out, Peter?"

Peter crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back, closing his eyes. "I can't tell you. It's _way_ too complicated for you to understand."

Mia rolled her eyes. Peter was so full of it. She decided to tease him a little.

"That is truly _very_ clever of you, Peter," she said. "But it makes me wonder... What's the point in me telling stories if you already know how they're all going to end? Doesn't seem like much fun to me." She shook her head and gave a little sigh. "Perhaps I shouldn't tell them anymore."

The boys were aghast.

"Nooo!"

"Please, Mia!"

"No, no! They're fun! They're still fun!"

"Keep telling your stories!"

Before Mia could assure them that she was only teasing, Peter leapt from his chair and flew towards her, bowling over the boys and scattering them left and right. His eyes were wide with panic.

"No!"

He clasped her hands in his as his eyes shimmered and wavered.

"Just because I figured it out doesn't mean it's not a fun story! Please keep telling them! The Lost Boys _really_ wanna hear what happens next!" He looked so seriously worried that Mia almost felt bad about her little prank.

"All right, all right," she assured him. "Don't worry. I was only teasing."

Peter and the Lost Boys released a collective breath and Mia continued the story.

"So anyway, Luke says, 'No, that's impossible!' But Vader says, 'Search your feelings. You know it to be true.'"

The story went on, and when Mia reached the conclusion, the boys began to cry and clamor.

"How can it end _there_?"

"They can't kill off Han!"

"Han isn't dead, dummy! He's just frozen in a block of carba... carbo... He's just frozen is all!"

"Are they going to save him? They _will_ save him, won't they, Mia?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," said Mia, grinning down at them.

"You sure you can't tell us now, Mia?" asked Nibs.

"Pleeaase...." begged the Twins.

"You heard her, boys," said Peter crossing his arms and speaking with authority. "They must be told separately. That's the proper way to do it!"

"Oh, man... I can't wait!" said Curly. "We're very nearly at the end!"

"Why are you all so excited?"

It was the ever cynical Slightly who spoke.

"Once she's finished telling her stories, she's going to leave us, just like the other storytellers." His hard eyes moved to Mia. "Aren't you?"

At first, Mia didn't know what to say. It was probably true she was going to leave them eventually. She couldn't stay here forever. But at the same time, she hated to hurt them. These boys must feel so abandoned -- first by Wendy and later by Belle, and who knew how many people in between. And with her new knowledge of just who, or what, these boys were, Mia felt an even stronger affection and empathy for them.

Peter was growing restless in the corner, agitated by Slightly's defiance. Mia didn't wish the younger boy to face Peter's wrath, so she knelt down in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Slightly... I once read a poem, though I don't remember the author. Anyway, it goes a little something like this: _Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Others stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never ever the same."_

Slightly tilted his head looking thoughtful, but Nibs was the first to speak.

"Footprints on our hearts?" he asked. "Won't that hurt?"

"No," said Mia, laughing. "I don't mean literally. It's a metaphor meaning that some people come and go very quickly and we hardly get the time to know them. But others stay for as long as they can, and even if they have to leave one day, they make sure the time they spend with you is of the greatest quality. They give us fond memories that we can keep with us and hold in our hearts forever, so that way, even when they're gone, we'll always remember them, and we know that they'll always remember us."

"Ohhh..." said Nibs, nodding thoughtfully.

Mia's gaze returned to Slightly. "I can't say whether I'll stay forever or if I'll have to leave one day because I don't know what the future holds. But I'll promise you one thing: No matter what, I intend to leave a footprint on your heart."

She pressed the tip of her finger against his chest, right above his heart. Then, she slowly trailed her finger up over his clavicle and chin and tweaked his nose affectionately.

"Is that fair, Slightly?"

Slightly chewed his lip as he lowered his gaze. To Mia, it looked like he was fighting back tears. When he looked up again, Mia saw that her suspicions were correct. There were tears in his eyes, but he was also smiling.

"Yes," he said, and he threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

With Slightly's seal of approval, the rest of the Lost Boys joined in, knocking both Mia and Slightly to the ground beneath them in their eagerness. Mia laughed beneath the dog-pile of Lost Boys as they all wanted a share of her affection.

"Leave a footprint on my heart too, Mia!"

"And mine!"

"Mine too!"

"Ours also!"

A sharp whistle from Peter put a quick stop to their merriment. "Pull yourselves together, lads!" he ordered, and they quickly rose to their feet. "That's no way to treat a lady. Besides, no one's leaving," he insisted. "Mia won't go anywhere so long as she's having fun. Isn't that right, Mia?"

Mia rose to her feet, brushing dirt off her jeans. "Well, I--"

"As long as we don't let her get bored, she won't want to leave! I say, we take Mia on lots of adventures and show her just how great Neverland can be!"

Six youthful voices rang out in unanimous agreement. The Lost Boys quickly gathered their adventuring gear as Peter took Mia by the hand. "Come with me, Mia," he murmured silkily. "Come with me and I'll take you on adventures you could only ever dream of."

There was no refusing him when he spoke like that. Mia was helpless to Peter's charms as he pulled her from the hideout and acquainted her with the island where dreams are born and time is never planned.

Many moons passed, though it was impossible to truly gauge the passage of time on Neverland. Adventuring by day and telling stories by night, Mia easily lost herself to the allure of the magical island and the inhabitants with whom she'd grown so fond. The Lost Boys, who were truly lost souls given a second chance at boyhood - Slightly, Nibs, Curly, the Twins, and Tootles - became to her like six little brothers. And then, of course, there was Peter. Beautiful, wonderful, curious Peter.

Day by day, Peter showed himself to be so much more than Mia would have ever thought he could be. He almost appeared to grow older or younger, depending on his mood or chosen activity. Mia desperately wished for an explanation but was far too nervous to ask for one. He was definitely not like 'the boy who refused to grow up' from the stories or films. Certainly, Peter had a childish streak in his behavior, but there were times Mia caught him acting almost mature. In some moments, he could be downright seductive. He was brave. He was youthful. He was stubborn. He was selfish. He was handsome. He was beautiful. He was simple. He was complex. He was Peter Pan. And he was Mia's mystery to solve.


	23. Horseplay

The workshop in the Mercurial residence was impossibly large. One wouldn't think it to look at the small door at the back of the single-car garage, but through that door was a workshop big enough to house the Dream Machine with room still yet to spare. This was, of course, accomplished with the use of Imaginergy.

The Dream Machine was suspended by thick wires which hung from the ceiling. Blair Mercurial lay on a padded garage creeper beneath the brass basket of the dirigible. His usual garb had been replaced by a mechanic's jumpsuit, and in place of his hat, he wore a welding mask. Figment lay asleep in a wicker dog bed with a blanket pulled over him. It was hard to tell which was louder – the dragon's snoring or the sounds of the blow torch.

The door to the workshop creaked open and Snow entered, carrying a mug of coffee. Blair paused in his work and slid out from under the dirigible. He removed his mask, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Ah. Thank you, Snow," he said, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. He set the mug on the workbench and slid back beneath the Dream Machine.

"You've been working for several days without a break," said Snow, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. "Have you gotten any sleep at all?"

"I'll get sleep when my daughter is back home safe and sound. Now hand me that dog-legged clencher there."

"Uh...." Snow's hand hovered uncertainly over the tool chest. Cindy grabbed the proper tool and handed it to Snow, who handed it to Blair.

"I understand your worry, Uncle Blair," said Cindy, leaning against the workbench, "But slave-driving and sleep-depriving yourself isn't going to help anybody. The 10 Kingdoms are on high alert. Vandsgaard and Rosebriar's navies are out searching as we speak. There's been no sign of the island yet, but with so many allies out looking, it's only a matter of time before—"

"That's what concerns me," said Blair from beneath the dirigible. "With this sort of attention, word of my daughter's location and her vulnerable situation could reach the ears of The Dark Ones."

"All 10 monarchs were briefed on the situation and the search is being conducted with the utmost discretion," Cindy assured him.

"And I appreciate that the kingdoms have come together to help search for the island, but I don't like the idea of simply sitting around and waiting for someone else to find my daughter. I have to do _something_! And the first step is getting this old hunk of machinery up and running again. Flynn's been doing research on the DizNet and keeping up to speed with recent Neverland sightings. He's logging them all down for me. Together we'll see if we might be able to deduce a pattern and get a lead."

"I understand, Uncle Blair, but I fear you're overtaxing yourself. You've noticeably lost weight these past couple weeks."

"Good," Blair grunted as he turned the clencher on a particularly stubborn bolt on the dirigible's undercarriage. "I could afford to lose a few pounds."

"You know what I mean," said Cindy exasperatedly. "We're worried about you."

"And _I'm_ worried about my daughter."

"But she'll be all right, Uncle Blair," said Snow with a tentative smile. "Miandra's clever and resourceful. Besides, Peter Pan may be a handful, but all things considered, he's not a bad kid."

"It isn't Peter I'm worried about," said Blair. "Call me paranoid, but I just can't shake the feeling that Miandra is in grave danger."

~~~

Mia held tightly to Slightly's hand. The hem of her simple white dress fluttered around her thighs as she ran. Her bare feet padded over grass, dirt, and rocks. It hadn't much bothered her before, but now she wished she had a good pair of track shoes. The ticking was getting closer.

"I'm sorry, Mia," Slightly panted. "I really thought it'd be a good hiding spot. I didn't know it was Mr. Tick Tock's cave. Honest!"

"Less talking, more running!" Mia ordered as she and Slightly sprinted away from the reptilian beast which gave chase.

_How did a game of sardines go so wrong?_ Mia thought woefully as they did their best to outrun the ticking.

Sardines was a game Mia used to play with her friends back in elementary school. The object of the game was similar to hide-and-go-seek, but backwards. One or two people would hide together while everyone else searched for them. Whenever a person found the hidden person or persons, they joined them in their hiding spot until the whole group of people were hidden, all holed up together like a bunch of sardines. The last person to find them was considered the loser, while the first person to find them got to be the next to hide in the following round.

The boys had been growing restless that day, and so it was Mia who suggested the game. Of course, this pleased Peter immensely, and when she'd explained the rules of the game, they were more than eager to play. After mapping out for the Lost Boys the boundaries within which they were permitted to hide (if given the entire run of the island to hide, no one would ever be found), Peter decreed that Mia and Slightly would be the first to hide.

Mia relied on Slightly to know his way around the island and stay within the perimeter marked by Peter, but disaster struck when Slightly suggested that they hide in a cave near the mouth of the creek which served as a tributary to Mermaid Lagoon. Only then had they realized far too late that it belonged to one of Neverland's most dangerous and notorious inhabitants.

"Hurry, Slightly," urged Mia, tugging him along.

The ticking was getting louder, and she could hear the sound of logs snapping beneath the weight of the large beast. Slightly's legs were a lot shorter than Mia's and as she increased her speed he stumbled and went sprawling. Mia quickly hauled him back to his feet and half dragged, half carried him until they reached the fringe of the forest. A large wall of rock rose up in front of them. They were trapped! Mia spun around and came face to face with their pursuer.

The crocodile was monstrous. Not quite like the giant creatures from Japanese monster movies, but far larger than a crocodile should be. Perhaps three times the size of an average croc. Mia didn't much like their odds of surviving the encounter. But she had to do _something._

Thinking fast, Mia grabbed a fallen branch and held it out in front of her, trying to keep Mr. Tick-Tock at bay. He lunged towards her. Mia swung the branch, but he seized it and crushed it easily in his mighty jaws. His yellow eyes glared at her for her audacity and he advanced. Mia retreated until her back was against the rock wall and there was nowhere else to go. Slightly whimpered beside her.

Mia was certain they were both about to become crocodile chow when suddenly – and fortuitously – an odd thing happened. The clock inside the crocodile began to strike the hour. Mr. Tick-Tock winced and shook his powerful head as though trying to chase the sound away. With an anguished roar, he fell onto his side and began to roll back and forth. The ground shook as his mighty body slammed into trees and boulders, sending sticks, twigs, and small rocks raining down upon them. Mia and Slightly raised their arms, covering their heads from the falling projectiles.

Then, they heard a familiar voice calling out from the plateau above them.

"Hey! I found them!"

It was Peter! He gazed down at Mia and Slightly with a grin.

"You guys aren't doing a very good job of hiding, you know."

"Peter! Help us!" Mia cried.

Only now did Peter take notice of the crocodile. "Oh! Right! Hang on!"

He swooped down and scooped Mia into his arms, flying her out of harm's way.

"What about Slightly? We can't just leave him!" Mia cried, pointing down at the young boy.

The ringing of the clock had stopped, and Mr. Tick-Tock was rising to his feet once more. The Lost Boys hurried to the edge of the cliff, armed with rocks, coconuts and sticks which they pelted down at the crocodile below. Their projectiles struck him on the head and back. The croc shook his head in annoyance. At first, the distraction was working, but the boys were quickly running out of ammo and the crocodile was only growing angrier.

"Peter!" said Mia. "Do something!"

"Hey, Tink!" Peter called, and the pixie obediently fluttered towards him. "You know what to do!"

At his command, Tinker Bell flew down to Slightly, dousing the top of his head in golden pixie dust.

"Come on, Slightly!" Peter called down. "Hurry! Think of something happy!"

Slightly closed his eyes tightly. "NOT BEING EATEN!" he shouted and was lifted off his feet and into the air. He shot past Peter and Mia, spiraling head over heels towards the clouds.

"Oops. He's going too far. I'd better stop him." Peter set Mia on the plateau and flew after Slightly, catching him by the ankle before he could disappear into the clouds.

"Woah," said Slightly as Peter hauled him back to the ground. "What a rush!"

Below, the crocodile had given up his pursuit. There was no way he could scale the craggy cliff face. With an irritable swish of his tail, he turned and tromped back into the woods.

"So," said Peter, brushing his palms together. "What game should we play next?"

"Seriously?" said Mia. "We were just chased by the crocodile! We almost got eaten!"

"I know, right?" Peter said with inappropriate cheeriness. "How'd you guys get so lucky to have all the fun?"

Mia – hot, sweaty, dirty, and recently frightened – couldn't contain her irritation. With an angry yell, she launched herself at Peter. Laughing, Peter easily dodged her. Mia spun around and came at him again. This time, he was really going to get it! She was going to give him such a thrashing! But Peter grabbed her and swiftly pinned her to the ground beneath him, locking her torso between his knees. Mia struggled, but he grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head.

"Nice try, Mia," he laughed. "But you know I'm the best grappler. I'm always besting the Lost Boys in a scrap. But if you wanna wrestle, I won't deny you the pleasure of losing to me." He gave her a cocky grin, the one that made her heart pound but also made her want to punch him. 

Mia glared at him, but Peter was unperturbed. He leaned towards her, his face coming close to hers until they were cheek to cheek. She felt him take a breath. He spoke softly in her ear. 

"You smell nice."

A hot shiver ran through her body. Her heart began to pound a percussive rhythm that she could not only feel, but hear in her head. It was such a bold and unusually forward thing to say, and it seemed to come completely out of left field. Mia was speechless. What could she possibly say to that?

"B-But I'm dirty..."

It was the only thing she could think of.

Peter pulled back from her. His gaze trailed over her tousled, leaf-strewn hair and the smudges of dirt on her cheeks and arms. Her white shift of a dress, cinched at the waist by a green, cord-like vine whose flowers never seemed to wilt, was a recent staple of her time in Neverland. Mia didn't quite remember when or how she had been gifted with this dress, nor did she know what had become of her old clothes. It was as though she'd worn it forever. Right now, it was stained with dirt from her misadventure in the woods.

Peter grinned widely. " _Yeah_ , you are," he said, pulling her to her feet. "Since I was the first to find Mia and Slightly, it's my turn to hide," he announced to the Lost Boys. "And I choose Mia for my hiding partner!"

"Aww! But she already got to hide!"

"Give someone else a turn!"

"Let _me_ hide with you, Peter!"

"Those are the rules," said Peter firmly. "Whoever finds us first gets to hide with us, and then _they_ get to choose the hiding spot for the next round."

Tinker Bell chimed furiously in his face.

"No, you can't come, Tink," said Peter, crossing his arms. "If you wanna play the game, you'll have to go with the Lost Boys and search for us properly."

Tinker Bell stomped her foot in the air, and with another shrill chime of angry bells, she shot off into the sky. Peter seemed unaffected by her departure. He looked to the Lost Boys with a grin.

"Good luck!"

With that, he lifted Mia into his arms once more and flew off over the trees.

"But Peter, I thought you wanted to play a different game," said Mia, her arms wrapped around his neck as he flew her over the Neverwood towards the mountains.

"I did at first, but then I decided I'd rather hide with you," he said, giving her a mischievous smile.

Why did that smile send her into palpitations? Be still, her heart!

They soared over Neverland's singular mountain range which sat at the very center of the island. Peter flew between the two tallest peaks. Two great camphor trees faced one another on the side of each mountain. Their giant, twisting roots met and intertwined in the center of the two mountains, creating a bridge-like structure over the valley. Peter touched down on this bridge-like formation and set Mia to her feet.

"Come on! This way!"

Mia did her best not to look down as she followed him across the roots to the camphor tree on the west peak. The tree was partially hollow at the bottom and jutted out from the side of the mountain at an almost 90-degree angle. Peter took Mia's hand and pulled her inside the hollow trunk. It was a tight fit.

"Peter, there's not much room."

"It'll be okay if you lay on me."

"I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Like this." Peter lay on his back and pulled Mia on top of him.

"P-Peter!"

"What? Stop wriggling." He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her firmly against him.

Mia felt her body growing hot, and it couldn't be blamed on the temperature inside the hollowed tree. Up here on the mountains, a soft breeze blew through the cracks of the trunk, keeping them cool on what was otherwise a warm summer day.

"Peter," said Mia, trying to ignore the jackhammering of her heart, "What if the Lost Boys can't find us way up here?"

"It's okay. They'll sound a call if they give up."

"But Peter, even if they _do_ find us, they won't be able to hide with us. There's not enough space."

"I know! That's what makes it so brilliant! They'll _all_ lose!"

Mia didn't even know what to say to this, so she simply sighed. Peter hardly seemed to notice.

"Look, Mia," he said. "If you rest your head on my chest and turn your face to the east, you can see all the way out to Mermaid Lagoon."

Mia did as he said. She rested her cheek against his chest and peeked out through the narrow crack in the tree trunk. "I see it! Oh, wow! It's beautiful! Oh, and there's even a rainbow over the lagoon!"

"Yeah, you can slide down the rainbow into the water. It's great fun!"

"You can slide down the rainbow?" asked Mia in disbelief.

"Of course! What else would you do with a rainbow, silly?"

"Well, you certainly can't slide on them where _I_ come from."

"Really? That's just boring."

Mia tried to shrug, but it wasn't easy in the confined space of the tree trunk. Instead, she continued to gaze out at the beautiful lagoon. It was one of a few places on the island she had yet to explore.

"I'd like to go," she said.

"I'll take you sometime soon," Peter promised.

Another breeze swept through the mountains. It almost made a musical flute-like sound as it blew between the peaks and through the cracks in their tree. The coolness of the breeze and the warmth of Peter's body combined with the beautiful sights and sounds around them was very soothing. Mia relaxed and her mind began to wander.

"You know," said Peter quietly, "I hope they _don't_ find us. Not for a long time. I wouldn't mind staying up here all day. I like this."

"Y-You like what?" stammered Mia, for he had just verbalized exactly what she'd been thinking herself.

"I like holding you," he said, his arms tightening around her.

It was another of those peculiar moments where Peter acted less like the child portrayed in the stories, and more like a young man with adult fancies. Although this was hardly the first time Peter had behaved in such a way, every time it happened, it caught Mia by surprise. Peter was always charming in his way, even when he was behaving childishly. But in these moments, he had an entirely different sort of charm; the kind that had the power to make her breath hitch and her heart pound with a desire she dare not name.

"Mia... Your heart's beating really fast. I can feel it."

"S-Sorry."

"Are you frightened?"

"N-No. Not exactly," she stammered.

She felt Peter's hand move to her head, his fingers trailing through her hair.

"Mia..." he murmured huskily.

The compulsion to look at him was too strong. Mia tilted her head to meet his gaze and suppressed a gasp. His face was no longer that of a teenager three years her junior. It was that of an older teen on the cusp of his 20th year, same as her. She'd witnessed this phenomenon only one other time – her first night on Neverland as they ate by the fire and he told her the truth of the Lost Boys. Then, there had been a melancholy look in his ever-changing eyes. But now, there was a look of strong desire deep within them. His lips curled into a mischievous grin with amorous intent. His fingers trailed down her cheek and traced over her lips.

Mia began to tremble, whether with fear or anticipation, she couldn't quite name. She tried to steady her breathing and will herself to stop quivering, but somehow the shaking was only getting worse. It was then she felt a vibration rocking through the tree, shaking the mountain. It wasn't just her.

"What _is_ that?" she asked tremulously.

"Oh," said Peter, peeking out through the cracks, for he had felt it, too. "Must be horses."

"Horses?"

"Yeah. Wild horses. There's a bunch of 'em running around all the time."

The little girl in Mia began to stir. "Neverland has wild horses?!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah. Wanna see?" He didn't wait for a reply as he slid out of the trunk and offered Mia a hand. With Peter's help, Mia extricated herself from the hollow tree.

Outside in the bright sunshine, Peter was again a younger teen of no more than 16. The strange phenomenon had passed, and he seemed to have forgotten whatever idea had crept into his mind when they'd been pressed so closely together. Mia didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed.

"There, Mia!" he said, pointing to the valley below them. Mia shielded her eyes and squinted. Far below, a herd of horses was running between the mountains, kicking up thick clouds of dust with their powerful hooves.

"Whatdya' say we follow 'em?" Peter hoisted her onto his back and Mia wrapped her arms around his neck. He flew them down into the valley.

As they drew nearer, the sound of the horses' hooves grew louder, echoing through the passage between the mountains. Peter flew alongside them and Mia gazed at them with sparkling child's eyes. If she wanted, she could almost reach out and touch one, but she dare not loosen her grip on Peter. If she fell, she'd surely be trampled. Instead, she merely watched them, mesmerized by their beauty. There were so many of them! Dapples, pintos, greys, and bays...

This triggered a memory; one which seemed long lost to time. In her mind, she could hear a woman's voice singing.

_"Hush-a-bye  
Don't you cry  
Go to sleep, my little baby  
_

_When you wake, you shall have  
All the pretty little horses  
_

_Dapples and greys_  
Pintos and bays  
All the pretty little horses..."

In her mind's eye, Mia could just make out a face, somewhat blurry, as memories from so long ago often are. But she remembered a beautiful smile and waves of silky brown hair spilling over slender shoulders, and a tiny hand, which Mia knew to be her own, reaching out and grasping at the tendrils of dark silk. Mia knew the woman instantly, and suddenly she was overpowered by a tidal wave of emotions. She choked back a sob.

"Mia?" said Peter, slowing in his flight. "Are you okay?"

In his hesitation, they fell into the dust trail left by the horses and they both began to cough and choke. Peter lifted higher into the air, out of range.

"Ugh. I've got dust in my eyes," he muttered, rubbing fiercely at them. "C'mon! They're headed for the beach. We'll cut them off at the pass."

He shot off over the mountain towards the western side of the island. In Mia's excitement at the prospect of watching the horses run along the beach, the lullaby and the woman who'd once sung it were quickly forgotten.

While the eastern coast of Neverland was tropical in nature, the western side of the island with its rocky shore reminded Mia more of the European coast. It was amazing how versatile a single island could be. Peter set her on a large rock in the shallow water, just where the tide came in. This way they would not be in the horses' path when they came running down the beach.

"Here they come, Mia," said Peter, pointing.

From around a large outcropping of rock, a dozen horses came galloping down the long stretch of beach. The sound of their hooves was thunderous, even on the soft sand, which they kicked up as they ran. They were a beautiful sight with the sun shining on their flanks and their long manes blowing in the wind. They slowed to a canter as they reached the shore. A black mare and a dapple stallion ran side by side through the shallow water, sending drops of seafoam splashing over Mia and Peter. The stallion nickered and stomped his hoof in the water. The mare answered with a whinny and tossed her head happily.

"Oh, Peter... They're beautiful! I wish I could pet one."

"Want me to bring one over for you?"

"Can you do that?"

"Sure!"

Peter cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted at the stallion.

"Hey, you! Get over here!"

The stallion gave a derisive snort and turned his backside to Peter.

"Oy!" called Peter impatiently, rising off his feet. "Are you listening? This lady wants to pet you!"

"Oh, Peter don't," said Mia, tugging his hand and pulling him back down to the rock. "You'll scare them away."

They continued to watch the wild horses run across the beach when one in particular caught Mia's eye.

"Hey, look at that one over there," she said, pointing to a palomino. "Someone's riding it."

Sure enough, there was a young woman sitting astride the palomino, riding it bareback through the shallow water. The girl's clothes almost seemed to match the horse's coat – a patchwork of tans and light browns. Her hair was nearly as long as that of her steed's, though the horse's mane was white like dandelion fluff, while the girl's hair was as black as a raven's feather.

To Mia, the girl on her horse, together with the beach as a backdrop, looked like something out of a fantasy-themed oil painting. Mia would give anything for a canvass and paints and the ability to freeze time at this very moment to recreate what she saw. Instead, the only thing she could do was stare unblinkingly until the memory of it was seared in her brain for later use; though she was quite certain she could never properly capture the true beauty of this amazing moment.

"Oh!" exclaimed Peter. "It's Lily!"

"You _know_ her?" asked Mia, bewildered. It was hard to imagine that a wild and unruly boy like Peter could be friends with such a graceful island beauty as the young woman on the horse.

"Hey Lily!" Peter called, lifting into the air and flying towards her.

Mia was left alone on the rock to watch as the young woman turned her horse towards Peter. Her long raven hair flew about her face, the sun shining off a bare, bronze thigh. The girl slid nimbly off the horse, her moccasins hitting the sand. She patted the horse on the rump and it trotted into the water to play with its friends.

Peter was speaking animatedly with the young woman, who alternately tilted her head questioningly or nodded slowly as he spoke. It was only just now that Mia was connecting the dots. The girl's deerskin dress and moccasins, and the fact that Peter had called her 'Lily' was evidence enough for Mia to deduce who the young woman must be.

Tiger Lily was nothing like the little girl in the Disney movie. In fact, this girl was a young woman not too far from Mia's age. Tall, toned, and beautiful, she more closely resembled _Pocahontas_ from Disney's historically inaccurate film than the underage Indian girl who gave Peter Eskimo kisses in the pow-wow scene of Disney's 1950's animated film. With her long, supple legs, gorgeous sun-kissed skin, and silky dark hair, this Tiger Lily certainly had much more to boast about than her Disney counterpart.

These attributes were clearly not lost on Peter, either. Watching him from afar, Mia could see him flexing his muscles and trying to stand a little straighter as though he could somehow will himself taller. Mia, frightened that she was about to be forgotten and abandoned on an ever-changing island that she could never hope to navigate on her own, climbed down from the rock and hurried across the beach to where Peter and Tiger Lily stood.

As Mia drew closer, she saw that Tiger Lily struck an imposing figure. She was taller than Mia. Taller than Peter, even, which explained his efforts to stand straighter. Her eyes were the most engaging. They were large and brown, almost bronze in color. Those eyes were full of intelligence with a hint of mischief. She was stunningly beautiful, and Mia suddenly felt very inadequate by comparison.

When Mia came to a stop beside Peter, she realized, quite astonishingly, that he'd achieved exactly what he'd been attempting to achieve. Somehow, he'd made himself taller and was now standing eye to eye with Tiger Lily. The latter seemed unperturbed by this, as though it were not an unusual occurrence. Mia did her best to not to look shocked. Instead, she listened to what they were saying. Having come upon them in the middle of their conversation, she hadn't much context and was incredibly confused by the exchange of words.

"And what do you have to put up for collateral, Peter?" Tiger Lily asked in a strong, melodious voice.

"I have her," he said, grabbing Mia by the wrist and pulling her up alongside him.

Tiger Lily lifted an eyebrow. "You wish to offer up this girl?"

"Wait, _what?_ " said Mia, but she was ignored.

"She's our new storyteller."

"I see," said Tiger Lily, a smirk crossing her face. "I suppose she will do. You already know mine. It is the same as always."

Peter nodded.

Tiger Lily whistled and the palomino returned, nudging her affectionately. Neverland's native princess stroked its long nose.

"In that case, Peter, prepare your army and I shall prepare mine. The game begins at sunset." With that, Tiger Lily mounted the horse and clucked her tongue. At her command, the horse turned and galloped away.

Mia turned to Peter, her eyes wide. "Peter... What have you done? What did you just agree to?"

"Come on," he said, taking her by the hand. "We've got to get ready."

~~~

"I don't like this game," said Mia petulantly. She leaned against the giant tree which served as the entrance to the Lost Boys' hideout with her arms crossed. "I mean, Peter didn't even _ask_ me if I wanted to play. He just volunteered me!"

"It's okay, Mia. Really. The game's a lot of fun," said Slightly.

"Maybe for you," she said, "But none of _you_ have to be the flag."

The game of the evening was 'Capture the Flag.' Natives versus Lost Boys. Peter had taken a hunting party of three – himself, Nibs, and Curly – to capture the natives' flag, while Slightly, the Twins, and Tootles were left to guard _their_ flag – Mia.

"Peter must have a reason," said Slightly. "I'm sure he does."

Mia snorted. "Right. To annoy me. That's his reason."

The boys didn't reply. They knew better than to disparage their leader. They stood in a half circle around Mia, their backs to her, ready to face an attacker head-on, should they show. Slightly was armed with a dagger, the Twins with a bow and quiver of arrows each, and Tootles had a slingshot.

"I mean, this _is_ only a game, right?" asked Mia. She didn't see why they needed to be armed, and it was making her a little nervous.

"Don't worry, Mia. We'll guard you with our lives," said the Twins.

"That doesn't answer my question. And it _doesn't_ make me feel any better."

The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, turning the clouds from blood red to deep purple. The Neverwood was growing darker, and soon, the only light came from the bioluminescent mushrooms and flowers which decorated the forest floor. A cool breeze picked up and Mia shivered.

"Can't we go inside?" she whined.

She never got an answer. A sound, like the snapping of a twig, drew their attention to a particularly dense copse of trees where not even the light of the bioluminescent flora touched. Slightly motioned for Mia and the others to be quiet. Then, he gestured for the Twins to go left while he took to the right, daggers and bows drawn. Tootles stayed behind to protect Mia, which seemed an insurmountable goal given his small stature and insignificant weapon.

Mia held her breath as she watched Slightly and the Twins edge towards the fringe of the grove. For a moment, the night was still and perfectly silent. Then, the Twins took another step forward and cried out as a rope looped around their ankles and yanked them off the ground. Their heads knocked together as they hung upside-down from the tree shouting, "Trap! It's a trap!"

Slightly spun towards them, drawing his dagger, but at that moment something whizzed through the air and struck him in the side of the neck. For a moment, Slightly swayed drunkenly on his feet. Then, with an inebriated smile which might've been comical under other circumstances, he collapsed onto the ground. Tootles, meanwhile, was shouting for Peter, who couldn't possibly be within hearing distance.

Mia ran to Slightly to inspect the damage. There was a dart sticking out of the side of his neck. Mia plucked it out and examined it. It looked aboriginal in nature, but beyond that, Mia couldn't glean anything from it. But judging from the loud snores coming from the young boy, it didn't seem to be poisonous at least. Mia let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank G—"

An arm wrapped around her from behind as a hand covered her mouth and nose with a buckskin cloth. Mia tried to struggle, but the strange scent of the cloth was making her weak and sleepy. Her legs gave a final, desperate kick, and then darkness consumed her.


	24. The Chieftess of Neverland

Mia heard the sound of crashing waves and the call of a gull. There was a soft, steady thump, as though of hooves across sand.

_All the pretty little horses,_ she thought dreamily.

She could feel herself rocking gently, as though in rhythm to the sounds, and the warmth of a body pressing up against her from behind. Her head lolled against a bare torso. Was it Peter? She tried to say his name, but her tongue felt like a rock in her mouth. She was just so sleepy. 

The sound of hushed voices speaking in a language she didn't recognize pulled her from her doze. When she opened her eyes, she first saw the waves crashing against the rocky shore, the sea foam glistening in the silvery moonlight. There were two people on horseback, one to her left, and one ahead of her. That's when Mia realized she, too, was sitting astride a horse with her wrists bound in front of her. A pair of brown arms encased her on either side, holding the reigns of the horse upon which she sat.

Alarmed but still a bit delirious, Mia tilted her head to gaze up at the person who sat behind her. He was a Brave, a tribal warrior – tall, strong, bare-chested, and stony-faced. When he saw her gazing up at him, a slight smirk crossed his face. This small show of amiability did nothing to ease Mia's fears, and she let out a scream. The man behind her covered her mouth with his hand, muffling her cries. Mia bit his finger and he released her, barking something in a language Mia didn't understand. But she knew a curse when she heard one.

The rider in front turned her horse and came galloping back towards them. The rider was a woman, whom Mia only now realized was Tiger Lily herself. She gave a sharp order in her native tongue and the man tied a cloth around Mia's mouth.

"MMPH!" Mia protested, but it was no use. Her cries were muffled.

"My apologies, Storyteller," said Tiger Lily as she guided her horse alongside the Brave's. "But we must keep you quiet. I have no intentions of losing this time." With that, she clicked her tongue and her horse sped up, taking the lead once more across the dark beach.

The journey along the nighttime beach on horseback might have been enjoyable, even romantic, if it were under other circumstances. Mia had exhausted herself with trying to make loud enough noise to permeate the cloth over her mouth. She had little success, and finally gave up. Why would Tiger Lily and her tribe kidnap her? What had she ever done to them?

_I'm the flag,_ she thought miserably.

But she was beginning to wonder just how much of a _game_ this truly was.

They guided their horses beyond the beach and into a region of the island Mia had not yet explored. They traveled along a narrow mountain pass, one which looked like it could be treacherous to the inexperienced traveler. The horses had to walk single-file to get through. Mia tried not to look down to her left where a sheer drop off the side of the mountain awaited any who leaned too far in that direction. And she desperately hoped that a potential rockslide did not await them from the cliffs above. Were it not for the light of the full moon (the moon was always full on Neverland, as far as Mia could tell), they could not have seen well enough to guide their horses through such a path at night.

After what felt like an eternity, they rounded the cliff face and started up a winding dirt path to the northwestern-most tip of the island. Here, the horses were once more able to walk side by side as Tiger Lily continued to lead the way until they finally arrived at the natives' village. The camp was surrounded on all sides by an immense wall of logs, set vertically side by side, their tips carved to a point. The natives' village was heavily fortified, a wise idea when your natural enemy was pirates; though Mia feared it boded ill for her.

Tiger Lily called out to a guard stationed at the top of the wall, who in turn called down to someone on the other side. Slowly, the wooden doors were pushed open, granting them entrance. Tiger Lily led them beyond the wall, and once they were inside, the doors were closed behind them.

The camp was truly a village in every sense, even more so than Mia had suspected. It was a quaint little town, but well populated. Teepees sat in neat little rows, each with its own little campfire. Mothers with papooses on their backs gathered firewood and stoked the flames for their suppers while the men sat on hand-crafted benches and whittled away at their weapons, fashioning bows and arrows, quivers and spears. Beautiful, handmade pottery and wicker baskets sat outside the tents with no fear that anyone would steal them. There was even a small corral for the horses and oxen, as well as a pigpen and a chicken coop. Clothes and animal skins hung on a line near the fires where they could dry, and meat cured over the smoky flames.

As expected of a nature-respecting peoples, none of the natural wilderness had been cut down but, rather, the village had been constructed around and within it. Moreover, this part of the island seemed to be encased in perpetual autumn, which seemed to fit with Barrie's description of Neverland.

_"It's summer, winter, spring and fall all at the same time on different parts of the island,"_ Peter had said to Wendy in the play.

As they rode through the center of the native compound, the indigenous Neverlanders, young and old, male and female, all paused in their activities to watch the return of their princess and the strange young woman she brought with her. Tiger Lily raised her fist in the air and proclaimed something in her native tongue for all gathered to hear. Her people cheered in response. Some laughed as though something she'd said was particularly amusing.

A man and a woman approached Tiger Lily at a sprint. The man appeared to be a warrior, as marked by his face paint and the spear he held in his hand. Judging by the woman's clothes and bangles, Mia assumed she must be a priestess of some sort.

"Princess," the lady addressed Tiger Lily breathlessly. "Pan took it. He has it."

"When did this happened?" asked Tiger Lily, dismounting from her horse.

"Shortly before you arrived," said the warrior.

"Then it would seem we have a tie," Tiger Lily said, musingly. "Peter will be in for a surprise when he returns to his hideout, for I, too, have captured _his_ flag."

As if this were his cue, the Brave who'd accompanied their hunting party lifted Mia off the horse and set her to her feet. Tiger Lily untied the cloth from Mia's mouth.

"P-Please don't hurt me," Mia gasped.

Tiger Lily frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just..." She hesitated, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Peter didn't tell you much, did he?"

Mia opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, confused.

"Let me guess," said Tiger Lily. "All he told you was that we were playing Capture-The-Flag, and you were his flag?"

Mia nodded.

Tiger Lily closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her temples as if she were staving off a headache. "Oh Peter," she sighed as though she were a mother lamenting the errors of a wayward son. She fixed Mia with a warm but sheepish smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you all right?"

"Um... M-Maybe," Mia stammered, still feeling very confused. "I mean, I'm not hurt or anything, if that's what you're asking."

"Please know that my people mean you no harm. You are simply the objective in our game, the key to securing a victory. It's only... Peter has never made a _person_ his flag before, so we had to take a different approach to securing it – to securing _you._ At first, I thought your fighting and protestations were premeditated and methodical, sort of like a challenge. I hadn't realized you were truly frightened, and for that I am sorry. Though I think the blame lies more with Peter than with I."

"But you shot Slightly with a dart! And you strung up the Twins, and—"

Tiger Lily laughed, waving it off as though it was nothing. "Oh, that's par the course for these games. My people and I have often found ourselves caught in a Lost Boy's trap, even if they _are_ crudely made. There's never any true harm intended. It's all in good fun. No one is ever _really_ hurt."

She gestured for Mia to follow her.

"Come," she said.

Bewildered, Mia followed Tiger Lily to what must be the biggest, most ornately decorated tent in the center of the village. The inside was somehow both spacious and confined.

"Please have a seat," said Tiger Lily.

Mia did as she was told while the native princess lit a small fire in the center of the teepee. Mia watched entrancedly as the smoke curled upwards and escaped through the opening at the top of the tent.

Tiger Lily took a seat across from her. "Perhaps proper introductions are in order," she said. "My name is Tiger Lily – or just Lily, if you please – chieftess of thePaiqunee."

Mia already knew who Tiger Lily was, but thought it rude to say so. Thus, she introduced herself, as custom dictated.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mia... uh... storyteller to the Lost Boys," she added, now wishing she'd taken Snow up on her offer to give her a title.

"Mia..." said Tiger Lily, as though testing the sound. She nodded. "A good name. Petite and pretty."

"Oh, um... thank you."

"In regards to your friend, Slightly – he's only asleep. The dart was imbued with essence of The Evening Flower. The cloth we put to your face to knock you out was similarly suffused. The substance is harmless. My people often burn the flower in their tents to help put their little ones to sleep. It's very potent, but quite safe."

"I... I see."

"Oh! Your hands!" Tiger Lily exclaimed as though just now realizing Mia's hands were still tied. She drew a dagger from her hip and swiftly cut the ropes.

Mia rubbed her wrists, trying not to wince as she attempted to get the blood circulating again.

"Sorry," said Tiger Lily. "This really would have been so much easier if Peter had explained things properly. You must think we're barbaric."

"No!" Mia exclaimed earnestly. "I don't think that at all!"

Tiger Lily seemed bemused by her passionate outburst. "I... see. That's... good. I thank you for not thinking ill of us."

Judging by Tiger Lily's reaction, Mia could only assume that on Dizgaia there were no such things as prejudice or racial slurs, or even marginalized groups in the same sense that there were on Earth. You were either a good guy or a bad guy. Race, religion, or orientation didn't factor in. Dizgaia may not have fully achieved Utopia, but in her estimation, they'd come pretty damn close.

"Nevertheless, please allow me to explain myself," said Tiger Lily. "It would make me feel a lot better about the entire situation."

"Okay."

"I'm sure you've realized by now that Peter loves playing games, and some of them he takes quite seriously. Perhaps almost _too_ seriously. My people and I are often compelled to appease Peter. It is in our best interest to do so. While sometimes it can be tiresome, it is of no great inconvenience to us. After all, his childish whims are harmless enough."

"But why do you have to appease him?" asked Mia.

"Don't misunderstand. I am certainly not saying that it would make him our enemy if we did not placate him. There is no bad blood between us, but it is good for promoting camaraderie among my people and the Lost Boys, which is pivotal to an alliance and necessary when considering the danger posed to us by the pirates."

Mia nodded. "Together you are strong..."

"But divided we fall," Tiger Lily finished. "Exactly."

"So, playing these games with Peter, it's sort of like boosting morale."

"Yes," said Tiger Lily. "But like I said, Peter takes these games very seriously. It's almost as though the serious matters in life, like battling the pirates, is a great game, and frivolous games are of the utmost importance. Why he is that way, I'll never truly understand, but I often suspect it may be the way he copes due to a tragic past."

"A tragic past?" asked Mia. "How could he even _have_ a past? He's just Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up... isn't he?"

"Well, you see, Peter didn't always reside on Neverland," said Tiger Lily. "Once upon a time, the island's only inhabitants were my people and the fairies. Then, one day, Peter just appeared on the island without any explanation. This was many, many moons ago, back when my great-grandmother was chieftess. No one knows where he came from, though some think perhaps he came from the other world, the one that runs parallel to Dizgaia."

"You mean Earth?"

"Yes, although others believe he's a direct descendant of one of the ancient Dizgaian races. His supernatural abilities and strong affinity for the fae seem to suggest a distant relation to the them. But no one really knows. He's a mystery to us all. But I believe Peter _must_ have a past. Only, I think he's made himself forget it and has intentionally shut his mind off to those memories. Even if he tried, I doubt he could remember it now."

"I wonder what sort of tragedy he could have experienced," said Mia musingly.

"Your guess is as good as mine. It's only speculation, of course. Though, I'm sure you've noticed how he ages back and forth?"

"Yeah," said Mia. "It's strange. I don't understand it. In all the lore, nothing has ever been said about Peter Pan aging forward, even if only briefly."

"No one would dare say anything for fear of upsetting him. Is he an adult who ages himself backwards, or is he a boy who can age himself forwards? And is it Neverland that has granted him this ability, or is it something magical inside himself?"

"That's quite the conundrum," said Mia. "Do you think he realizes it happens?"

Tiger Lily shrugged as she poked the fire with a stick. "I can't say for certain whether he's conscious of it, or, moreover, whether or not he has control over it. But it seems to happen whenever he has adult thoughts or feelings."

"Adult thoughts or feelings?"

"Yes, which makes me further speculate that he must have a troublesome past that he wishes to bury by embracing the mind and visage of a child. Just like some people who have experienced a great trauma may revert to a childlike state as a sort of defense mechanism, it is my belief that Peter has shunned the idea of adulthood in favor of childhood. His insistence on treating games as serious business, and wars and conflict as a game, as well as his penchant for aging forwards when he has grown-up fancies, lends further support to this theory."

"Wow," said Mia. "It's incredible, but it really does make a lot of sense. But how did you come to such a conclusion?"

Tiger Lily smiled. "When you've known Peter for as long as I have, you begin to pick up on a few things."

Mia lowered her gaze, hoping the growing warmth in her cheeks wasn't showing. Why did she suddenly feel envious of Tiger Lily for having such a long history with Peter? It wasn't like she didn't already know that. But something about Tiger Lily and Peter knowing each other for so long, while Mia herself was nothing but an insignificant blip in his long, long existence, made her a little jealous.

Trying to hide how she was feeling as much as to distract herself, Mia asked, "So this Capture-The-Flag game... This won't turn into some sort of war between the natives and the Lost Boys, will it? I mean, with Peter taking it so seriously and all..."

"I should think not," said Tiger Lily. "Though this is the first time we haven't lost to Peter, so who knows how he'll take it?"

"The woman outside said Peter took your flag. What was it?"

Tiger Lily's eyes flicked to a shelf inside the tent upon which sat a head made of clay. Its blank expression and lack of detail gave it the appearance of a mannequin. It looked rather lonely sitting by itself without a hat to adorn it.

"It is a ceremonial headdress," said Tiger Lily. "Passed down through my family for generations. My mother wore it when she was coronated as chieftess, and her mother before her, and _her_ mother before her. The day my mother died, I wore it for _my_ coronation ceremony."

"That sounds really important. Are you sure it was a good idea to make it your flag?"

"Like I said, Peter takes this game very seriously. As such, the rule is that the flag must be something of great value, something greatly treasured by its keeper. So, for us, it has always been the headdress. But Peter always returns it unscathed. Despite his childlike ways, he understands its significance and is always very respectful."

"Oh. That's... that's good," Mia replied distractedly. There was something else Tiger Lily had said that struck her.

_The flag must be something of great value, something greatly treasured by its keeper._

Was she, Mia, something of great value to Peter? Was she greatly treasured by him? And was that because she was a storyteller, or was there something more?

_Don't flatter yourself, Mia,_ she thought. _It's only that he values you as a storyteller. That's the extent of it._ Still, she had to ask...

"Earlier, you said that Peter had never made a person his flag before."

"That's true," said Tiger Lily.

"What were his other flags?"

"Well, once it was his sword. Another time it was his flute. He does value them greatly. But before you came along, it was most frequently a teddy bear."

"A teddy bear?"

"Sounds strange at first, doesn't it? But when you consider it once belonged to the Darling children..."

"Oh!" said Mia, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Oh, I-I see. That's... That's just... Oh, poor Peter."

"Yeah," said Tiger Lily with a pitying sigh. "He took it pretty hard when they left. Others have come and gone since, but Wendy and her brothers were special to him. He was never quite the same since they returned to Earth. He's long since given up his infatuation with mothers. Though I suppose one would, when the girl you brought to Neverland to be your mother abandoned you."

"Oh man... I never thought about it that way. That's really, really sad."

"I can only speculate about his life before Neverland, but it was certainly his first and only real sorrow here on the island. He's tried very hard to forget it, which is why it would be best if you never mention Wendy or the Darling children to him. He doesn't take too well to such reminders."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Mia took a moment to ponder over everything Tiger Lily had told her. Many thoughts were rolling around in her head.

"Would you think me annoying if I asked you some more questions?"

"Not at all, Mia."

"You mentioned your great-grandmother, but I thought no one could grow up on Neverland."

"Well, you see, my ancestors were not always native to this island. We are descended from a race of wayfarers who were forced to leave our old homeland after it was conquered by marauders. Our ancestors parted and all went their separate ways to search for new lands. Some of them arrived here on Neverland entirely by mistake. But like many who have found themselves on Neverland's shores, they fell in love with it, and so this is where we have lived for eons."

"But there's still a lot that doesn't explain," said Mia. "What about your mother? If she wasn't even born until your ancestors arrived on Neverland, how could she have grown up and given birth to you? And you've got to be about, what, my age?"

"That's the thing about Neverland," said Tiger Lily. "There isn't an exact science to it. The magic is very arbitrary. It's almost as though the island allows each individual to grow to the age which suits them most. For my mother, that was 23. For me, it's 19. As for the Lost Boys... Well, they're a bit more of a mystery. Not a single one of them has aged beyond what they were when Peter brought them to the island."

Mia knew why that was, but she didn't dare tell Tiger Lily. She had promised Peter that she would keep the truth a secret.

"Still, you rarely see someone over the age of 30," Tiger Lily continued. "The elders of our village are the exception. But, of course, they were already old when we first came to the island. They may not have eternal youth, but neither have they died of natural causes."

"What about the pirates, though? They're all old, aren't they?"

"It depends on what you consider old. Bill Jukes is almost a boy in his own right, not much older than you and I, while Mr. Smee is as old as some of the elders in our village. Essentially, they're whatever age they were when they first arrived on Neverland."

"Oh. I see."

"You are very naïve, Mia, which makes me believe my suspicions about you are correct."

"W-What suspicions?"

"You're from the other side, aren't you?"

"The other side?" repeated Mia, chuckling nervously.

"Yes. Earth."

Mia blushed and rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Is it that obvious?"

Tiger Lily nodded. "You'll want to be careful about giving that away, Mia. There are those on this world who would wish to exploit a visitor from the other side. Barring the Darling children who never journeyed further than Neverland itself, every ambassador from Earth has been met with... hostilities... by the Dark Ones."

"Oh, but I'm not an ambassador."

Tiger Lily raised a thick eyebrow. "You're not?"

Mia shook her head. "I'm... I'm Miandra Mercurial."

"Mercurial... As in The Dreamfinder?"

Mia nodded.

"I see," Tiger Lily mused. "So, you're his daughter." She leaned closer to Mia and lowered her voice. "You must, at all costs, reveal this to no one else. Do you understand?"

She was so earnest, so forbidding, that Mia swallowed nervously and nodded.

"You must be careful, Miandra. If you give that information too freely, you will find yourself in grave danger." The light from the flames danced in Tiger Lily's eyes, giving her words an even more ominous feel. Mia gulped.

"How is it that you've found yourself here?" asked Tiger Lily.

"On Dizgaia or Neverland?"

"Both."

Mia regaled Tiger Lily with her story. The native princess listened without interrupting. Her eyes were thoughtful and her expression serious.

"It is well that Hook is away," said Tiger Lily when Mia had finished her tale. "If he were to know..." She shook her head as though she couldn't bring herself to finish the thought. "You must find a way to convince Peter to return you to your father. Neverland is a wonderful place, but it can also be dangerous if one is not careful. And you, Miandra Mercurial, have even more reason to be careful than the rest of us."

"Where _is_ Captain Hook?" Mia asked in a low voice, her eyes shifting nervously, afraid that speaking his name might somehow summon him.

Tiger Lily leaned back, poking at the fire again. "Currently? Who knows? Although the Jolly Roger makes berth at this island, Hook and his crew often sail the seas of Dizgaia, pillaging and plundering for the Dark Ones."

"But how does he find his way back? My father said that Neverland's location is constantly changing and no one has yet been able to track it's coordinates or figure out a pattern. He said that most people find it completely by accident."

"That is true," said Tiger Lily. "Neverland changes in size, shape, layout, and location in the world according to Peter's whims. Even the seasons here respond to his moods. It would be impossible to predict without first understanding the mind of Peter Pan, and no one as of yet has been able to do that. As far as Hook is concerned, I can only guess it is with the aid of some sort of witchcraft granted to him by the Mistress of Darkness that allows him to find his way back. But this is only speculation."

"Oh," said Mia. She'd never thought to ask Peter about Captain Hook, for fear of riling him up. She'd rather been hoping that perhaps something had happened to Hook. But now that there was a chance of encountering him if he returned...

As though reading her thoughts, Tiger Lily said, "It would be well for you to convince Peter to return you to Cerenopia before Hook returns... and before you forget."

"Forget? Forget what?"

"Where you're from, and your father."

"Why would I forget? I just told you—"

"You did just now, yes. But for how much longer will you be able to recall that?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Think for a moment, Mia. Since you've been on Neverland, have there been any moments where you've found yourself unable to recall something, or where something you remembered suddenly left your mind a second later?"

Mia chewed her lip. There _had_ been such times. In fact, just earlier today, hadn't she remembered something? Something to do with the horses that had left her head almost as suddenly as it had entered? For the life of her, she couldn't recall it now. Mia didn't reply, but she didn't need to. Tiger Lily could see it in her face.

"I thought so," she said solemnly. "Neverland has a way of making you forget things."

Mia recalled Peter saying something similar on her first night in Neverland, when he'd spoken of the Lost Boys.

"But why is that?" she asked.

"No one really knows," said Tiger Lily. "It's an anomaly that happens to those from the mainland or the other side when they come to Neverland. The inception of the phenomenon appears to have a correlation with Peter's arrival... If my ancestors are to be believed."

"So you think it's Peter who's doing it?"

"Not consciously, no. But he may be the cause of it."

"How so?" asked Mia.

"It's like I said about the island changing its shape, season, and location according to Peter's moods. It's like they are linked somehow – Peter and the island, that is. If Peter has a past he wishes to forget, the island may grant his wish. And it may be that it affects others similarly."

"You speak of the island as though it's alive."

"My people have always believed that nature has a spirit, but Neverland takes that belief even further. It's like an entirely different animal unto itself."

"And if I _did_ ask Peter to take me home, do you think he'd listen?" asked Mia.

"It may take some convincing. Peter can be selfish. He won't want you to leave. But he's not heartless. Consult your feelings, search your heart, and you'll find the right way."

_Wow. That was deep,_ thought Mia. But she wondered just how she was to go about doing what she needed to do. It wasn't that Tiger Lily didn't give good advice. It was just that Mia didn't know how to go about consulting her feelings and searching her heart for answers.

There was so much more she wanted to talk about, but she never got the chance, as there was suddenly a commotion outside the tent. Several voices were shouting in their native tongue. Mia could only pick out one word – Pan.

Tiger Lily smiled. "Looks like it's time. Come with me, Mia."

Mia followed her out of the tent. Panic was not quite the word to describe the activity in the village. And why should it be? Peter was not an enemy. But the excitement was palpable. In fact, it almost looked like they were preparing for some sort of celebration. Logs and wooden benches were being drawn up around a big bonfire. Men and women carried drums to the circle, and two Braves wielding spears stood on either side of the closed doors, as though ready to receive an honored guest.

"Hands behind your back, if you please, Mia," said Tiger Lily.

Mia did as she was told, and Tiger Lily bound her hands with rope once more.

"H-Hey!"

"Sorry, but remember, this is serious business."

Mia quirked her lips, trying not to smile. She wanted to be annoyed, but she couldn't help being a little amused. It was like being a little kid again and playing pretend.

"Play along, all right?"

"If I must," Mia sighed.

"He'll be positively unlivable if you don't," warned Tiger Lily.

"Well, we wouldn't want that."

Both girls giggled quietly. Then, clearing her throat, Tiger Lily gave another command in her native tongue, and the guards opened the doors.

In flew Peter, with the Lost Boys trailing behind him. The Twins took up the rear, supporting Slightly between them, who was staggering and yawning. As Peter landed on his feet in the midst of the village, he let out a mighty crow. He was quite the proud sight, particularly with the feathered headdress atop his head.

"Should he be wearing that?" Mia whispered, but Tiger Lily just rolled her eyes as though it were simply a mere annoyance.

With a hand on Mia's shoulder, Tiger Lily stepped forward. "Peter Pan," she said. "You have successfully captured my headdress. But I have here your precious storyteller. I believe negotiations are in order."

"What'll we do, Peter? We've never tied before," said Nibs, sounding very much concerned.

_Man... They really_ do _take this game seriously,_ thought Mia.

"We'll make a trade!" Peter announced as though this were a novel idea that only he could think of. "Your headdress for my storyteller!"

"Very well, Peter," said Tiger Lily. "Give me the headdress, and I will give you your storyteller."

"No," argued Peter. "You hand over Mia, first."

"Oh good. I was starting to think he'd forgotten my name," Mia muttered.

Tiger Lily gave her a subtle nudge, her lips working furiously at suppressing her laughter. "Don't you think it would be much better, Peter, if we traded at the same time? That way we can be absolutely sure that neither one of us double crosses the other."

Peter looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Yes, I do think that would be best. All right, then!" He lowered the headdress from his head and handed it to Curly. "I'll send one of my lads over with the headdress, and you send someone over with Mia."

"Very well, Peter." Tiger Lily summoned one of her Braves who took Mia gently by the arm and began to walk her towards Peter while Curly walked towards Tiger Lily with the headdress. Finally, the trade-off was made.

Peter took Mia gently by the shoulders. Grinning, he turned her around and cut her ropes cleanly with his dagger.

"You're safe now, Mia," he said proudly, sheathing his dagger.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Mia grumbled at him.

Peter's expression fell. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't explain what was going to happen properly! I didn't know Tiger Lily and her people were going to _actually_ kidnap me! I was scared! What will it be next time? Football with Captain Hook with me as the ball?"

Peter grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to him, his eyes ablaze with a furious passion. "Never!" he cried. Then, lowering his voice to a murmur that was almost a whisper, "I'll never give you to him. Ever."

Mia blushed. His possessiveness was both alarming and flattering. She wasn't sure how to react. But the way he was looking at her right now made Mia's breath catch in her throat.

"I'm sorry, Mia. I didn't mean to make you mad," he said, looking rather sullen. "Forgive me?"

It was difficult to stay mad at him, especially when he looked at her like that.

"Yes, all right," she sighed. "I forgive you."

The smile which spread across his face was worth forgiving him for. Sure, it was cocky, but it was such a handsome, alluring smile that made Mia's heart soar. In fact, it made her feel like maybe she could fly, herself.

Tiger Lily, meanwhile, had donned her headdress. She raised her arms into the air, and everyone quieted and stood at attention.

"Friends, let us celebrate a successful truce between our peoples. Lost Boys, Mia, we would be honored if you joined us for a pow wow. What say you?"

The Lost Boys all answered with a single word in Tiger Lily's language, shouting it jubilantly into the night. The decision was unanimous. They would stay for the pow wow. It began with a great feast, which was already prepared to accommodate the entire tribe as well as the Lost Boys. Mia could only assume that this must be a routine follow-up to their games.

Mia and Peter sat side by side in front of the fire, feasting hungrily upon venison and digging into large wooden bowls of stew made with corn, beans, and wild rice. The Lost Boys were similarly gorging themselves. Mia leaned close to Peter.

"I thought you said they couldn't eat," she whispered in his ear.

"I didn't say they _couldn't_ eat. I just said they don't _have_ to eat. Whenever we pow wow with Tiger Lily's tribe, we always have a great feast. It doesn't hurt them any." He rubbed at his ear. "And don't breathe in my ear like that, Mia. It makes me feel..." He trailed off, casting her a hasty glance. "Just don't do it."

"Sorry."

It was one of the best meals Mia had ever eaten, perhaps with the exception of Tiana's House Gumbo. When the feast was over, it was time for singing and dancing. The tribe played the drums and sang songs in their native language. Mia didn't understand the words, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Their voices, ringing loud and joyous, rose to a beautiful crescendo as the men got up to dance.

They were dressed in what Mia supposed was a sort of ceremonial garb. They wore anklets around their legs which reminded her something of a tambourine and made a similar sound as they stomped their feet in rhythm to the drums. Mia, Peter, and the Lost Boys clapped in time with the beat, smiling and laughing, and cheering the dancers. One of the dancers – in fact, it was the Brave who had helped capture her – winked at Mia, and she smiled. It seemed there were no hard feelings.

Next, the women got up to dance. They carried feathered fans, and their dresses had curious baubles that jingled when they moved. When the drummers struck up a new rhythm, the women took up a new dance, one which was mostly footwork and slow rotations which gradually became faster. As the music reached a crescendo, the women parted and Tiger Lily rose, wearing her headdress and a great, multicolored shawl which she held closed around her. She was the sole focus of this new dance, which consisted of intricate footwork with smooth, fanning movements of her long, feathered shawl. Mia couldn't take her eyes off her. Lily was beautiful, the dance was beautiful, and the flames from the bonfire flickering and crackling behind her only added to the ambiance.

Halfway through the dance, Tiger Lily caught Mia's gaze and motioned her to join her. Mia blushed and shook her head. She couldn't possibly. But Tiger Lily wasn't taking no for an answer. She grabbed Mia by the hand and pulled her to her feet.

"No, really, Lily. I can't dance. I'm terrible."

"Anyone can dance," said Tiger Lily. "They just first need to find the rhythm in their heart."

"Well, right now my heart is beating with stage fright."

"Don't worry," Tiger Lily laughed. "I'll teach you. Follow my lead."

Mia watched Tiger Lily and did as she did. To her relief, the other women joined in, so she was not so much the center of attention. After a while, Mia got the hang of it and soon discovered she really enjoyed it. She and Tiger Lily danced in sync, exchanging smiles by firelight. It was so much fun, that Mia lost track of how long she'd been dancing. Soon, the men joined in and it became a couples' dance, but it was nothing like ball room dancing or prom. Arms were linked, hands were clasped, but there was lots of energy. And before Mia knew it, Peter was dancing alongside her.

Following the example of the other couples, Mia and Peter kicked their legs, spun on one foot, first one way and then the other, and took several side steps one direction. Then, for the more challenging part, they crossed their legs with one another at the ankles, clasped hands and turned in a circle on one foot, both of them grinning and laughing.

The drumbeat got faster. They danced faster. Crossing their arms and holding hands, Mia and Peter twirled in a circle with their arms as leverage between them. They spun faster and faster until Mia lost her balance and fell. Peter landed on top of her, catching himself on his hands so as not to crush her. They both lay there giggling, until their laughter turned into silent stares. For what seemed like a strangely long moment, they gazed deeply into one another's eyes. Then, blushing, Peter got to his feet and helped Mia to hers.

With hands clasped, they gazed at one another a moment longer before Peter hastily pulled away and ran off to join the Lost Boys who were trying their hands at the drums. Mia's heart was pounding faster than the drumbeat as she tried to catch her breath. Was it the dance that had her breathless, or was it something else?

Tiger Lily sidled up beside her. "There's something else I should warn you against," she said softly, her words drowned out by the drums so only Mia could hear. "Don't fall in love with him."

"W-What?"

"It'll only end in heartbreak."

Mia let out an awkward laugh. "Lily, what are you even talking a—"

Tiger Lily's bronze eyes gazed upon her with sympathy. "He won't be able to love you back," she whispered.

"Lily, what—"

But Tiger Lily had moved away to dance around the bonfire once more, and Mia was left alone to ruminate on her words.

~~~

_"Mia, run! Get help!"_

_"But Dad—"_

_"NOW!"_

_She was running. The muscle-bound man in the red coat was chasing her. She stumbled and fell. He towered over her, grinning a wide, toothy smile. There was a long shhiinnk noise as he drew his French rapier from its scabbard in slow motion._

_"I_ will _be taking you with me. Make_ no _mistake about that."_

_Mia turned and ran for it again. She could hear the man's heavy boots tromping behind her. She ran faster. Suddenly, she was inexplicably running down a long, dark hallway. There was a light at the end. If she could only get there, she might have a chance of escape._

_She came to a screeching halt. The light was not a way out, but a mirror, one which was mysteriously illuminated in the darkness. At first, Mia saw only her reflection. But then, the mirror rippled like water and it was no longer her reflection staring back at her, but the Mad Hatter._

_Grinning maniacally, he took off his hat and bowed to her. From within his hat, the Dormouse appeared, fixing Mia with his large, void-like eyes._

_"TwiNkLe... tWinKle... dAuGHter oF dreAMs... sOmedAY WE'd lOVe To heAr yOUr SCReaMS..."_

_And scream she did, for suddenly a pair of long canvass sleeves wrapped around her from behind and she was dragged backwards towards the cackling March Hare._

_"Gotta wrap up the present for Mistress Maleficent! It's her Unbirthday today, after all!"_

_Mia thrashed against her bonds, screaming as she was pulled ever closer to the Hare's gaping maw._

_"No! Oh God, no! Someone help! Help me! Please! Let go! Let me—"_

"Mia! Mia, wake up!"

Someone was shaking her. Mia bolted up, frightened by the dream but also alarmed, for she did not recognize the young man on his knees beside her.

"Wh-Where am I? Who...?"

Then, she remembered. After a long night of festivities, they'd grown tired and stayed the night in Tiger Lily's village. The natives had set aside two teepees, one for the boys, and one for Mia.

The young man on his knees beside her was Peter. The dim light from the dwindling fire cast shadows on his face in a strange way, making him look somehow different; older, almost. Or perhaps he had again undergone one of his miraculous transformations.

"You were dreaming," he told her.

"It was an awful nightmare, Peter! It was..." She trailed off. Her mind had gone suddenly blank. "That's weird. I remembered it just a second ago, but now... now I can't remember any of it."

"Some things are better left forgotten, Mia," he said softly. "Don't worry. I'll stand guard outside your tent, and if you have another nightmare, I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" said Mia timidly.

"I promise," said Peter as he gently pushed her back onto the bearskin and pulled the blanket over her.

"But don't _you_ need to sleep?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "But not tonight."

"What's so special about tonight?"

" _You_ are, Mia. I have to protect you. If the nightmares should come for you, I must be awake to chase them away." He smiled down at her as he gently brushed her hair out of her face.

Something in Mia's heart stirred and she flushed. Why was he always waxing romantic and yet never seemingly aware of it?

"Peter," she said. "You don't have to do that. Really. I—"

He placed a finger against her lips. "Shh. Sleep."

Mia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She heard Peter rise to his feet and exit through the tent flap. When he was gone, she opened her eyes again. In the light of the glowing embers, she could see Peter's silhouette through the tent, just outside the door flap.

She stared at him for a long time. He was serious. He was really going to camp right outside her tent all night, just in case she had a nightmare. It was so endearingly childish, and yet so gallant and sweet. She heard the sound of a pan flute – Peter's flute. He was playing a lullaby to help her sleep.

The more she listened, the more familiar it sounded. In fact, she was certain of it. It was a lullaby she'd once heard in a play – James Barrie's _Peter Pan_ , to be exact.The tune was "Tender Shepherd," the song the Darling children sang in their nursery. Mia's throat tightened and she felt a dull ache in her chest. The implication of his choice in tune almost brought tears to her eyes. But the more he played, the more her eyelids began to droop. Despite the emotions this melancholy lullaby provoked, Mia gradually fell asleep to its haunting melody.


	25. What a Girl Wants

Dawn broke over the horizon line, casting a pink hue on the underbelly of the clouds. The ocean waters were calm, and a northerly wind blew, whistling like a ghost through the rigging. Save for this, all was quiet as the crew of the Jolly Roger was just beginning to stir with the morning light. As the first sliver of sunrise cast its golden splendor over the sparkling water, the silence was broken by a sharp call from the crow's nest.

"Ship ahoy!"

The door to the cabin opened and the captain emerged in a swirl of red and gold. His heavy black boots tromped authoritatively across the quarterdeck.

"Where away?" he called gruffly.

"Four points off the port bow!"

James Hook brought the spyglass to his eye and gazed out over the bulwarks. Sure enough, he could see the swell of white sails in the distance and a flag bearing a familiar insignia – a sword wrapped from blade to hilt in a thorny vine with a rose as the pommel.

"Rosebriar," he murmured thoughtfully.

"But what are they doing out in _these_ waters?" asked the quartermaster, coming to stand at his side.

"A good question, Mr. Starkey, but I don't intend to get close enough to ask."

Hook continued to gaze at the approaching ship through his spyglass.

"We are fortunate. The darkness is on our side of the water, while the rising sun shines upon them like a beacon. They've not yet seen us."

"Orders, cap'n?" asked Mr. Starkey.

"Ready Long Tom. When they're within range, we'll blow them out of the water."

"Aye, sir! You heard the captain, Mr. Smee. Pipe up the crew!"

The bosun blew his whistle. "All hands on deck!"

A dastardly assortment of fiendish cutthroats emerged from the forecastle and swarmed the deck.

"Look alive, you swabs!" shouted the quartermaster.

Hook lifted the spyglass to his eye once more. "We have them in our sights."

The master gunner called out the coordinates as the men positioned the cannons.

"On my signal, men. Ready... FIRE!"

Long Tom fired and the cannonball hit its mark, striking the hull of the enemy ship. As Hook's crew prepared for a second round of fire, Rosebriar's ship gave an answering volley. The shot went wide, just missing the Jolly Roger and blasting into the water a few feet from the bow.

"Tsk, tsk," said Hook with a smile that was half amused, half malevolent. "Rosebriar never was much of a dominant sea power. Double the powder and shorten the fuse!" he barked at the crew.

The cannons fired a second time. Chain shot took out one of the masts of Rosebriar's ship, and a second cannonball blasted through the quarterdeck. Rosebriar again retaliated. A cannonball took off the Jolly Roger's bowsprit and the gilded figurehead at the prow.

Hook's lip curled. "Merely aesthetic, Rosebriar. You disappoint me."

He called down to his crew from the quarterdeck.

"Again!" he shouted. "I want that blasted ship sunk!"

The Jolly Roger sent their final volley. A third cannon shot to the hull and another to the main mast was enough to take down Rosebriar's ship. The resulting swell from the explosion rocked the Jolly Roger, but she stood firmly the victor.

"Make way for that wreckage," ordered the quartermaster.

"Belay that, Starkey," said the captain. "We'll take no prisoners today, nor will we find anything of worth. That was a naval vessel. We've merely eliminated a threat. I have more important matters to attend to."

"Aye, cap'n."

"Mr. Cecco, are we still on course?" Hook asked the pirate manning the helm.

"Aye, Cap'n," said Cecco glancing at a curiously glowing compass. "We should reach Neverland's shores by eventide tomorrow, as the crow flies."

"Excellent," said Hook. "I've been away for far too long, and I am eager to give Peter Pan the souvenir I picked up for him."

He returned to his cabin where a rectangular object sat upon his map table beneath a black velvet cloth. Hook lifted the cover, revealing a small treasure chest. The chest was chained tightly shut with a skull and crossbones lock, and it gave off a sickly green glow from within. He ran his hand across it, almost tenderly, but he didn't dare open it. Not yet.

"Yes," he murmured orgasmically, closing his eyes and relishing in the knowledge of the weapon he possessed. "Vengeance will be sweet."

~~~

"Hey, Mia. Wake up."

Mia opened her eyes. Peter was hovering over her. The fire had long since gone out and the gray light of pre-dawn was all around them. Groaning, Mia gently pushed him away from her.

"Peter... The sun isn't even up yet. What do you want?"

"Come on, Mia! I wanna show you something."

"Oh, all right," she yawned. "Give me a minute."

"Hurry up," he urged. "We don't wanna miss it!"

"All right, all right. I'm up, I'm up."

Peter took her by the hand and led her out of the tent. They slipped silently through the sleepy village towards the front gates. Mia could hear loud snoring as they passed the teepee that held the Lost Boys.

"What about the others?" she asked as they went past without stopping.

"They can catch up later. They know their way around. Come on!"

The two great wooden doors which led out of the village were locked with a large wooden barricade bar. Peter attempted to slide it aside.

"Ngh!"

He grunted as his muscles strained with the effort. He stopped and ran a hand through his wavy red-brown hair.

"Wow, that's heavier than it looks."

"Why don't you just fly us over the wall, Peter?" asked Mia in mid-yawn.

"Oh! Right!" said Peter, laughing sheepishly.

He returned to Mia, pulling her arms around his neck from behind and hoisting her onto his back. Just before he lifted off, the sound of the wooden beam being slid back drew their attention. Tiger Lily leaned against the now open doors with her arms crossed.

"Friends come and go through our doors, Peter Pan. Enemies fly over walls." She gave them both a kind smile. "And I'd much rather you leave as a friend."

Grinning at Tiger Lily, Peter took Mia by the hand and pulled her towards the open doors.

"Thanks! See ya', Lily!"

Tiger Lily nodded at Peter. As they passed, she offered Mia some parting words.

"Remember what I told you, Mia."

Before Mia could reply, Peter had pulled her beyond the doors and was leading her down the winding, rocky path.

"What did Lily mean?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Mia.

"I don't know," she lied.

Once they reached the bottom of the hill, Peter lifted her into his arms. "We've gotta hurry. We haven't got much time!" With that, he shot up into the air so quickly that Mia tightened her grip fearfully.

"W-Where are we going? Why the hurry?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said as he flew her over the island. They seemed to be heading for the highest peak at the central-most part of Neverland. In the distance where the sea met the sky, Mia could just see the first pink light of the emerging dawn.

Peter landed upon a flat outcropping of rock near the top of the mountain. He set Mia to her feet and pulled her towards the edge. Mia's eyes went wide as she attempted to dig in her heels.

"Woah, woah, woah! Peter! Woah!"

They skidded to a halt at the very edge and Peter plopped himself down, pulling Mia down beside him. They sat with their legs dangling over the ledge. Mia took a peek down. Her stomach did a cartwheel.

"Oh God. This is really, really high. If we fell..."

"I _can't_ fall Mia. And if _you_ fell, I'd catch you, obviously. Besides, you're not supposed to be looking _down_. You're supposed to be looking _out._ " He took her chin and lifted her face to the sunrise.

Mia gasped.

"Oh wow, Peter," she breathed.

This mountain perch provided a perfect view of the east side of the island, from the Neverwood to Mermaid Lagoon and beyond. She could see the ocean, and far out on the horizon line, the rising sun.

"It's beautiful!" said Mia. "So this is why you woke me up? You wanted me to watch the sunrise with you?"

"Yeah," said Peter. "Girls are supposed to like this kind of thing, right?"

Mia laughed. "I suppose we do. It _is_ romantic—" She stopped suddenly, uncertain as to how Peter would take her audacious use of such a word, but he seemed unbothered by it.

As the sun rose higher, the shadows slipped from Peter's face, and then, as though the sunrise had brought on the metamorphosis, so too did his boyish countenance disappear, replaced with that of a young man of Mia's age.

"There was a time," he said softly, his gaze as far away as the horizon, "that I thought I may never see another sunrise."

His strange comment struck Mia so hard that she nearly pitched over the side of the mountain. 

"P-Peter," she stammered, aghast. "What do you mean?"

Slowly, he turned his gaze to her, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"You just said there was a time you thought you'd never see another sunrise."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"When?"

"Just now."

"You're dreamin'," he said with a laugh, giving her a poke in the forehead. "Wake up and watch the sunrise with me, Mia."

"I thought that's what I was doing," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

It seemed Peter really wasn't aware of what he had said. Was this an instance of what Tiger Lily had been talking about, where Neverland made you forget things? Where something you might remember one moment, you forgot a second later? Was Peter recalling something from his tragic past, only to just as quickly push it out of mind? Mia was desperately curious, but she didn't dare ask.

As Mia gazed out at the sunrise once more, Peter took out his flute and began to play. This time the tune was not "Tender Shepherd." It was one she'd never heard before, but it was beautiful. It began soft and slow, gradually rising to a crescendo with the ascent of the sun. Mia smiled, and before she knew what she was doing, she rested her head against Peter's shoulder.

Peter faltered, and at first Mia feared she'd made a grave error. After all, hadn't he said in Barrie's play, " _No one must ever touch me"_?

_"Why not?"_ Wendy had asked, to which Peter had replied, _"I don't know."_

Mia had her suspicions as to why. To allow oneself to be touched in a tender manner was to allow oneself to become vulnerable. Vulnerability was not in Peter's nature. And furthermore, to be touched by a female bespoke a certain physicality that was too adult for a boy like Peter. So far, any time Peter and Mia had touched, it had been on Peter's terms. Thus, Mia feared she had made a serious mistake. But he continued to play his flute and he did not falter a second time.

When the sun was fully risen above the horizon, Peter stopped playing and pointed at Mermaid Lagoon. "Watch, Mia! Here it comes!"

As the water turned gold in the light of the sun, a rainbow arched slowly over the lagoon. It was almost as though Neverland was a canvass and a giant, invisible hand armed with a paintbrush that no mortal could see had just painted the rainbow over the lagoon right in front of them.

"Amazing!" she gasped. "I've never seen a rainbow do that before!"

"Well, you wouldn't," said Peter, "Not outside of Neverland anyway. Come on!" He leapt up and offered her his hand. Mia took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Where are we going now?" she asked.

"Didn't you say yesterday that you wanted to visit the lagoon?"

"I didn't realize you remembered that."

"I want you to be happy, Mia," he told her. "You played _my_ game last night. Now it's my turn to let you have the adventure _you_ want."

Mia was speechless. She didn't know what to say.

"C'mon," said Peter, pulling her into his arms once more. "Let's go!"

~~~

"There they are, Mia," said Peter, pointing at the collection of glistening wet heads bobbing out of the water beyond the rocks.

"Mermaids!" exclaimed Mia. "Oh, wow! Let's go say good morning!"

She leapt from rock to rock over the water towards the deeper part of the lagoon where the finned sea maidens were surfacing. As she approached, several wet heads turned to gaze at her, their long hair shining in the light of the morning sun. The nearer she drew, the mermaids beat their tails at the water, some swimming closer to Mia as though coming forward to meet her.

Mia leapt onto a particularly mossy rock and almost slipped. Several lovely faces gazed up at her eagerly, but their expressions turned sour when she righted herself. She was just getting ready to leap to the next rock when Peter landed behind her and grabbed her, holding her back.

"Don't!" he warned.

"What? Why?"

He wrapped his arms protectively around her from behind and whispered in her ear. "Don't let their beauty fool you, Mia. They're fiercely jealous of human girls. They'd just as soon drown you as look at you."

"O-Oh." Mia stammered.

A collectively dark expression fell across the mermaids' faces as Peter held Mia close to him.

"Back away slowly," he whispered in her ear as he lifted backwards off the rock and carried her with him. When they'd backed up three rocks, Peter set her on her feet once more.

"Stay here," he told her. "I'll draw them out for you so you can get a better look at them. But whatever you do, don't move from this rock. Okay? They won't come into the shallows."

"Okay, but how are you gonna draw them out?" she asked, but Peter was already flying over the rocks towards the mermaids. "Peter!"

Either he didn't hear her or he was ignoring her, for he alighted upon a rock near the fish women and took a seat. He began to play his flute, and the mermaids swam towards him, murmuring his name. They pulled themselves onto the rock and now Mia could see them in all their glorious splendor. Blonde, raven, and crimson manes spilled silkily down their bare backs and the scales on their tails sparkled with iridescent colors.

Mia sat on the rock and watched them, marveling at their beauty. They really seemed to like Peter's music, for they lay halfway on the rocks with their chins in their hands and their tails flicking happily in the water as they gazed dreamily up at him. Mia was content to watch them stretching lazily upon the rock to listen to Peter's music until a few of them grew bold and heaved themselves all the way onto his rock. They took off his boots and played with his toes, giggling delightedly.

Mia frowned. Why did this silly little gesture make her feel so annoyed?

_Okay, cool it, Mia. They don't have feet of their own, so for them it must be fascinating._

But when one of the mermaids began trailing her hand up Peter's chest, Mia stiffened. Why was he letting them touch him like that? Now, the mermaid was using a large shell as a bowl, filling it with water and pouring it slowly down his torso while a second mermaid scrubbed the dirt from his chest with a sea sponge. It only got worse as another mermaid pulled his head onto her scaly lap and began running a pearly fishbone comb through his wavy hair. And still, Peter played his flute. His lips formed a contented smile around the hollow reeds as he played.

Their tender attentions, their long hair brushing against his skin, and the way their bare skin glistened with water droplets, they were both maternal and seductive, and Mia instantly hated them. But Peter, how could he... _Why_ did he let them touch him in a way that he didn't even let Mia touch him? Were mermaids so different than human girls? What made _them_ so special? 

Fed up with what she was watching, Mia rose to her feet and turned her back on the sight. She hopped angrily from rock to rock, back to the sand, and stalked furiously up the beach, desiring to put as much distance between herself and the hedonistic mermaids as possible. She was halfway up the beach, never considering that she ran the risk of getting horribly lost if she ventured too far, when she heard the soft thud of feet landing behind her.

"Hey, Mia! Where you going?"

Reluctantly, she turned to face him. "I don't know, Peter," she admitted irritably. "But I didn't much feel like sitting around and watching you get pampered by a bunch of bare-breasted mermaids. So excuse me for losing interest."

She turned and walked away from him, but Peter flew around and landed in front of her, blocking her path.

"Aw, come on, Mia. That's just their way. They like it when I play the flute, so they pamper me a little. It's not like anything ever happens."

Mia cocked an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Peter's brow furrowed, as though considering his previous words. Then, shrugging, he said, "How should I know?"

Red-faced, Mia turned away from him and tromped off in the other direction.

"Hey, Mia! Wait up!"

Again, he landed in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Come on, Mia. Don't be mad. Please? 'Sides, I got something for you." It was only now she realized he was keeping his hands behind his back.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Peter brought his hands out from behind his back to reveal a lovely necklace made of moon shells, cockle shells, slipper shells, pearls and small gold charms which must've been found in a pile of undersea treasure.

"Oh, Peter, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "But where did you..."

"I filched it from one of them," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the mermaids.

"Won't they be mad?"

"Who cares? It's yours now."

He flew around behind her and put it around her neck. Mia felt him take her hair in his hands and lift if up over the back of the chain before letting it fall slowly through his fingers like a cascade of silk.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah. It feels nice. Oh! I-I mean... The necklace! Yes! I love it, Peter! Thank you!"

Peter beamed with pride. "I knew you would," he said. "So hey, wanna go swimming?"

"Swimming?" said Mia. "Well... I suppose... But my dress is white. If I got it wet, you could... Well, you could see right through it."

"Your dress isn't white, Mia."

"Yes, it is. It's..." She glanced down at herself and gasped at what she saw. The white shift with the vine cord and violet flowers was no longer present. Instead, she was wearing a dainty wrap dress of burnt orange. A green vine cord was cinched around her waist, this time boasting yellow orchids.

"B-But how...?"

"See? It's dark colored. You won't be able to see through it. Come on!"

He grabbed her by the hand and ran with her down the beach as Mia tried to fathom when and how she'd changed into a different dress, when in fact she still couldn't remember how she'd gotten the first one.

Peter stopped at the edge of the water and began to strip.

"P-Peter!"

"What?" he asked, as he slid his crossbelt off his shoulder and doffed his leafy skirt. He then proceeded to sit in the sand and pull off his boots. Granted, he didn't have much to take off. His torso was already pretty well bared from the beginning. But when his hands came to the waistband of his form-fitting breeches, Mia stopped him.

"Peter, please! At least leave your pants on!"

Peter hesitated and glanced at Mia with a sudden strange look in his eyes. Slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"I get it," he said. "You don't want to see it."

Mia's face turned hot. "S-See what?"

Peter's grin widened and he leaned closer to her. His voice dropped low.

"You know... _It._ "

Although she tried not to, Mia's gaze instinctively flicked below his waist. Even with his pants on, Mia could see the delicious contours of his pelvis, what some called an 'Adonis belt,' dipping into his low-riding breeches, as well as the curvature of something else hidden within. Her cheeks went through three shades of red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said indignantly. "Just keep your pants on or I won't swim with you."

Peter rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. "All right, all right. Fine. Sheesh. Girls are such prudes."

"I'm sorry, what?"

That was not a word Mia thought Peter would know.

"What do you mean what?"

"You said girls are prudes."

Peter smirked at her. "Well, aren't you?"

Mia opened her mouth to reply, but she had nothing. Still grinning, Peter leapt into the water with a splash. When he reemerged, he waved her towards him.

"Come on, Mia! The water's great!"

With a sigh, Mia stepped to the water's edge. Slowly, she waded in. When she was about thigh-deep in the water, Peter grabbed her and pulled her the rest of the way in with a splash. Mia came up sputtering.

"P-Peter!"

She wanted to be annoyed with him, but his playful laughter was contagious. Soon, she was swimming along with him, chasing him through the water. At one point she lost sight of him and swam deeper towards the lagoon when he suddenly popped out of the water and yanked her behind a rock.

"Peter! You scared me!"

"Don't swim beyond this rock, Mia," he said seriously.

"Why not?"

All Peter need do was nod his head in the direction of the mermaids who were glaring jealously at her from just beyond the rock .

"They won't come into the shallows, but if you go any further, they'll try to drown you," he said.

"M-Maybe I shouldn't swim, Peter."

"What? Don't be crazy. I'm telling you, as long as you don't go past this rock, you'll be fine. Come on," he said, pulling her away. "I'll teach you how to jump on the rainbow's back and slide down!"

He lifted out of the water, taking Mia with him as he flew to the crest of the rainbow and let her go.

"W-Wait, Peter! I'll fall through!"

But, miraculously, she landed on her feet. Looking down, Mia saw that she'd sunk to her ankles in the rainbow until her feet touched something solid, as though there were a second invisible layer to the rainbow just beneath its colors. It was sort of like standing ankle-deep in rainbow-colored water, except this didn't have the consistency of water. It wasn't wet, but it wasn't entirely solid either. In fact, it wasn't much of anything. It was like standing in a ghost. Mia felt a distinct but pleasant tingling sensation in her feet.

"Hurry up, Mia," said Peter from behind her. "If you stand on it too long, you'll eventually sink through."

With a push, he sent her gliding down the rainbow on her bottom as though it were a slide. Mia slid all the way down and landed in the water with a big splash. She reemerged just in time to see Peter slide down after her.

"Yahooo!!!" He landed in front of her with a splash, and when he came up, he spat a stream of water at her.

"Hey!" she said, and splashed him.

Peter returned the favor.

"Want to go again?" he asked.

Mia nodded, grinning. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. It was like being a little girl again.

Peter gathered her into his arms and carried her up to the rainbow. This time Peter slid down first. Mia followed after. He was waiting at the bottom to catch her. Mia landed with a slightly smaller splash, never submerging as Peter's hands moved to her hips. Mia put her arms around his neck, giggling.

"Peter, this is _so_ much fun! I'm glad you brought me to the lagoon today."

"Me, too," he said as he pushed her gently backwards.

"Peter, what are you doing?" she asked as he pressed her against the base of the rainbow.

He reached up to the side of her head and trailed his fingers through her wet locks. "I like the way you look when your hair's wet, Mia," he said softly. "And I like how you look with the water glistening on your skin. You're so... You're so pretty."

"Uh, th-thanks, Peter," she stammered.

Honestly, he didn't look so bad himself. With his wet hair plastered across his forehead over those seafoam green eyes, the water glistening off his skin, and the sun shining on the musculature of his torso, he looked very appealing, like a water sprite or a young Greek god.

Peter leaned towards her, trapping her between himself and the rainbow. His face drew closer to hers. Mia's heart was racing. Suddenly, she wasn't feeling very much like a little girl. Not at all. Nor was Peter acting like much of a young boy. Of course, he didn't much resemble one either.

"Mia," he murmured huskily. "I want to..."

"There they are! Hey, Peter! Mia!"

Peter quickly pulled away from her and looked up towards the shore. It was the Lost Boys. They were running down the beach towards the water, yanking off their clothes as they went. But unlike Peter, they didn't stop at their pants.

"Oh God!" exclaimed Mia, averting her gaze.

"Yahoo!"

"Whee!!!"

They plunged, butt naked, into the water. The twins ran along the rocks before stopping at the one that faced Mia and Peter. Mia held her hand at her forehead and turned her gaze away, trying to shield her eyes from the sight of the nude boys.

The twins exchanged a mischievous glance. Then, with a cry of "Cannonball!" they leapt in, sending a wave of water splashing over Mia and Peter.

Now, quite awkwardly, Mia found herself surrounded by six naked boys. But they were only _little_ boys and she was a mature, responsible young woman. It was not the same as if Peter had gotten naked. The Lost Boys were so young, perhaps it shouldn't matter so much. Besides, the water did a good job of hiding them from the waist down; though every so often Mia caught sight of a bare butt sticking up out of the water as the boys dove under. But when they began clamoring at her to play with them, Mia felt she needed to put her foot down.

"Go over there, the lot of you!" she said, thrusting her finger in a vague direction some distance away from her.

"Awww. Why?"

"But Mia, we want to play with you!"

"Do as she says, lads," said Peter. "Mia is a lady, and a lady mustn't be surrounded by a bunch of naked boys. It's not proper."

Grumbling and pouting, the boys swam past the rock. Mia smiled her thanks at Peter.

"Go on ahead and play with them, Peter. It's all right."

"But what'll _you_ do, Mia?"

"I think I'll sunbathe a while. Maybe get a nice tan."

Peter shrugged as this didn't much interest him. "All right. Suit yourself," he said, swimming after the Lost Boys.

Mia pulled herself up onto the rock and lay out across it. Its sun-toasted surface felt nice and warm against her wet skin.

"Ahh..." she said, closing her eyes.

She lay this way for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun as it rose higher in the sky and morning turned to noon. She was later awoken from her relaxation by the sounds of feminine laughter mingling with that of the Lost Boys', prompting her to open her eyes and sit up. Across the water, the Lost Boys and Peter were playing with the mermaids. At first, Mia bristled with jealously, but then she saw what they were playing with and all thoughts of envy quickly vanished.

The mermaids and the Lost Boys were tossing what appeared to be a giant rainbow bubble. Back and forth it went, like they were playing volleyball. The more Mia watched, the more certain she was that it was a bubble. And yet it never popped the way a bubble should when someone touched it. Mia could only guess this either had something to do with mermaid magic, or perhaps some magic within the lagoon itself.

She sat on the edge of the rock, watching intently and wishing she could play. The desire was so strong that when the bubble was knocked out of bounds, she was more than happy to take up the task of retrieving it for them.

"I got it!" she called, as she leapt into the water and swam after it. With outstretched hands, she grasped it and lifted it high over her head.

"Okay, catch!" she called and tossed it towards the Lost Boys and their mermaid counterparts.

The bubble bounced off Curly's head and went long. No one attempted to catch it. The boys were staring at her, wide-eyed and pale-faced.

"What?" she said. "What's wrong?"

"MIA!" shouted Peter.

It was then she realized that she'd swum past the rock.

Peter's expression was one of panic as he shouted something else at her. But Mia never heard it as she was suddenly dragged under the water.

~~~

Mia felt a rhythmic pressure on her chest, followed by the feeling of warm, soft flesh pressing against her mouth. Air filled her lungs and another pressure, one which seemed to be building from within, rose from her lungs and into her esophagus. Mia choked, coughing up water, and finally she could breathe again. Her eyes fluttered open. Seven faces gazed down at her.

"Is she all right?"

"She's breathing again!"

"Mia, are you okay?"

The Lost Boys were all staring down at her, a circle of faces with the afternoon sun shining brightly behind them. Peter's face was front and center, looking very much relieved.

"Wh-What happened?" she asked hoarsely.

"The mermaids tried to drown you!" said Nibs.

Mia fought against the sting of encroaching tears. She really did not want to cry. Not in front of the Lost Boys, and especially not in front of Peter. But the thought that she'd almost drowned, that she'd almost been killed by a creature of such beauty...

Why, she remembered back in Junior High, the margins of her notebooks had always been filled with sketches of mermaids, fairies, and other such fancies of a 12-year-old girl. To think creatures that she'd admired could be so cruel! And furthermore... she almost died!

Mia could not hold the tears at bay any longer. Slowly, they rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the rest of the droplets that peppered her wet skin. She let out a choked sob and leaned into Peter, who swiftly wrapped his arms around her and held her comfortingly.

"It's okay," he whispered in her ear. "I've got you. I'll never let anything happen to you."

His words washed over her, warm and soothing, and suddenly she wanted to be nowhere else but right here, betwixt his arms and never released. Ironically, this comforting feeling only made her cry more.

Peter scowled in the direction of the lagoon as his free hand moved to the dagger at his hip. "Those coldhearted tramps! I oughtta gut 'em like the fish they are!"

"Oh, Peter, no!" Mia exclaimed, pulling back and taking a firm grip of his upper arms. "Two wrongs don't make a right. Besides, it's like you said... That's just the way they are."

Peter sighed as he lifted her into his arms. "Come on. Let's get you back to the hideout where you can rest and warm up."

This time Peter decided to walk in lieu of flying. It appeared he desired to move carefully without jostling her too much.

"I can still walk, you know," Mia told him.

"You'd better not just yet."

As Mia glanced up at him, she suppressed a gasp. He now wore the face of a young man in his 20s. This was getting crazy! Mia wanted so badly to question him about it, but she feared the repercussions. She couldn't easily forget Tiger Lily's comment about Peter having a tragic past. If that were true, did Mia really want to be the one to break his delusion of childhood and make him remember something that could hurt him? No, certainly not. There was one question, however, that she couldn't help but ask.

"How did you know to do that?"

"Do what?" asked Peter.

"CPR."

Peter scrunched his face. "What's CPR?"

"You know, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. You revived me."

"Oh. That," said Peter.

"Well, how'd you learn that?"

Peter was silent for a long time. Mia watched a range of emotions flicker across his face. Shock, fear and sorrow followed by a one-thousand-yard stare that she'd seen once before when her girl scout troop visited a nursing home to sing Christmas Carols for the old folks. There'd been a man, one of the oldest people there, who'd served in World War II. The nurses said he suffered from PTSD. He wore the same expression that Peter did now.

At first, Mia was worried she'd triggered something, but then she watched amazedly as, in slow motion, Peter's face seemed to morph back into that of a teenager. With this metamorphosis, so too did the one thousand-yard-stare disappear.

"Hmm. I don't remember," he finally replied.

Though it still struck her as curious that Peter should know such a technique, Mia decided not to push the issue. Peter looked sad, but she didn't think it had anything to do with her prior question.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"This was supposed to be a great day for you! The best day ever! I wanted it to be perfect! Now... Now it's ruined."

"It doesn't have to be," said Mia, for he seemed so disappointed. "I mean, the day is still young. I'm sure there's still opportunities for enjoyment of some fashion."

Peter's face lit up. "I've got it!" he proclaimed. "I know how to make this a special, relaxing, girly day for you!"

"Uh... girly?"

"I'll pamper you, Mia!"

"P-Pamper me?" She couldn't help thinking about the way the mermaids had 'pampered' Peter. If _that_ was his definition of pampered...

A hot shiver threatened to run through her body, but she did her best to ignore it.

~~~

Later that day as the deep red of sunset began to ease itself into the magenta haze of twilight, Mia stood in the middle of the Neverwood wrapped in naught but a towel, one that could use a good washing, and whose origin she didn't even want to fathom. Perhaps it had come from the same place that Peter and the Lost Boys had gotten the cast iron tub, which sat before her atop a pile of burning wood. Like an assembly line, the Lost Boys carried buckets of water from a nearby stream to the tub, gradually filling it for use.

"So, uh... where did this tub come from?" asked Mia.

"Stole it from Hook a while back," said Peter, his arms crossed as he supervised the Lost Boys' work.

"So you've had this all this time and you haven't _used_ it?" asked Mia, bewildered.

"Oh, we've used it a couple times, once or twice, maybe."

"Then why even have it?"

"To annoy Hook, obviously," said Peter, rolling his eyes as though she were a simpleton for asking such a question.

"I suppose you're going to tell me this towel belonged to him, too?"

"Yep!"

Mia grimaced. She was wearing Hook's towel. Was that even sanitary? Granted, it only looked a little dusty from lack of use. But still... using another man's used towel just felt wrong somehow.

"You should've seen it, Mia," said Peter, laughing. "He was taking one of his baths in the Neverwood... He can't do it on his ship, you know. He'd burn it down trying to heat the tub. Anyway, he had a few of his men around to guard him in case Mr. Tick-Tock showed up. Well, we lured his men away and they fell right into one of Slightly's pit traps. Then we stole Hook's clothes and his towel. Man, you should've seen him running from Mr. Tick-Tock all butt naked! He was _so_ pissed!"

Mia tried to suppress a laugh, only because it seemed improper to do so. But she couldn't contain it. She let out a loud and very unladylike snort. At least it was reassuring to know that Hook bathed regularly. Now she wasn't quite as perturbed about borrowing his towel.

"A day later, he gave me this," said Peter, showing off a deep scar on his bicep.

"Oh my God!" Mia exclaimed.

"Yep," said Peter proudly. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Peter, he could've severed an artery or something! You're lucky you didn't die!"

"Nah," said Peter, waving a hand dismissively. "Hook ain't got nothin' on me."

"Except a scar."

"Well, maybe a few of those," Peter admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Mia sighed. What was it with boys and battle scars?

"All finished, Peter," called Slightly. Sure enough, the tub was filled with water.

"Excellent," said Peter. "Now we just wait for the water to heat up and then Mia's pampering can begin!"

And begin it did. With the towel still securely wrapped around her, Mia allowed Peter to help her into the tub. She hissed as she waded in.

"Oooh... That's hot."

"That's the point, silly," said Peter. "It's a hot tub. Duh."

Mia eased herself into a sitting position in the tub, keeping the towel wrapped securely around her. The hot water felt heavenly. Mia gradually slid into a reclined position and closed her eyes.

"Ahh..."

"Lost Boys!" said Peter, clapping his hands for attention. "Gather the supplies I told you. On the double, lads!"

Mia opened her eyes. "Supplies? What supplies?"

"Don't worry, Mia. We've got it all covered. We're gonna pamper you until you're sick of it!"

Mia grinned as she sank even lower into the tub and closed her eyes again. "I'm not sure that's possible, Peter."

There was no reply.

"Peter?"

She opened her eyes. Peter was gone.

Mia sat up.

"Peter? Peter!"

Just when she was beginning to fear she'd been abandoned to a similar fate as poor Hook, a shower of rose petals began to fall from above, landing gently into the tub. Mia glanced up.

"Peter? What are you doing?"

"Making your bath extra nice, of course," he said, hovering above her as he continued to pull the petals off the two roses he was holding and drop them into the water below. Soon, there were so many floating atop the water that it looked like a bath made totally of petals.

Mia smiled as she plucked some stray petals from the top of her head and placed them gently in the water to join the others. Peter took a seat on the edge of the tub, crossing his arms and grinning smugly.

"I know what girls want, Mia," he said.

"Oh yeah? Had some experience with that, have you?"

"Well, I know what _you_ want, anyway."

"Oh?" said Mia, crossing her arms and lifting an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

Peter hovered over the tub, placing his hands on the edges on either side of her. His face came close to hers as he spoke in hushed tones.

"Adventure... Romance..."

"Easy guess, Peter," she replied somewhat breathlessly.

He pulled away from her, now wearing a more serious expression. "And... confidence."

"C-Confidence?" said Mia. He'd caught her off guard with that one. Perhaps Peter was more intuitive than she gave him credit for.

"Yeah, confidence. It's something you want, isn't it?"

"You don't think I have confidence?"

"I think you need more of it. _All_ girls should have confidence. After all, one girl is worth more than 20 boys."

Mia laughed. "So I've heard," she said, thinking of how Peter had uttered that same line to Wendy in Barrie's play.

Peter lay on his back in midair beside the tub with his arms crossed behind his head. "Mia," he said, "How come you won't tell us _your_ stories? I mean, we liked the stories about Star Wars and Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. You tell 'em really good. But none of those are _yours_."

"M-My stories?"

"Yeah. You were telling that lady in Cerenopia your stories, and you have lots of stuff written in your notebooks."

"You went through my stuff?" asked Mia, scandalized.

Peter shrugged. "Only a little. But you wouldn't even read them to that lady, and you haven't read them to us. What gives, Mia?"

Mia drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I just... I don't know. I guess you weren't so far off the mark about that confidence thing. I've always loved making up stories and writing them down, even when I was little, but..." She trailed off as flashes of long-ago memories played through her head.

_"You wrote a poem about Cody? Can I read it?"  
_ _"Okay, but just don't tell anyone."  
_ _"Hey everybody, listen to this!"  
_ _"No, please, Jenny! Don't read it out loud!"  
_ _"His eyes are like an oasis beneath sweeping lashes that flutter like a butterfly's wings..._ _Oh wow! How embarrassing for you, Cody! Mia thinks you look like a pretty little butterfly!"  
_ _"T_ _h-That's not what that means! It's a metaphor!"  
_ _"Well, it's really dumb."_

_"Mia, we're pulling your story from the contest."  
_ _"But why? I worked really hard on it!"  
_ _"It is far too graphic and mature for girl your age, and Crown Thorn Prep cannot condone such a bawdy, Rabelaisian work of fiction."  
_ _"But it's meant to be satirical!"  
"Then it is clear to me that you haven't the slightest idea how to write satire, Mia."_ _  
_

_"_ _You're just trying to get more views."  
_ _"No! I just wanted to give everyone a voice!"  
_ _"It's just for shock value."  
_ _"No, it's not! It's integral to the plot!"  
_ _"Your writing sucks. Don't quit your day job."_

_"Your technical skills are average at best, and your imagination leaves a lot to be desired."_   
_"My imagination?"_   
_"Well, I suppose there is something there, but many of your concepts are trite and gratuitous. Much of your writing I found to be ingratiating and shamelessly self-promoting. Frankly, Miandra, I simply do not believe you have what it takes. You are simply not cut out to be a writer."_

Mia buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. Even now, all these years later, it still hurt. And there was more. More cruelty, more bullying, more pain. She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, rubbing them firmly, massaging away her tension. Peter's lips moved to her ear.

"Forget them, Mia," he whispered. "Forget them all."

Had she said something out loud without realizing it, or did he just somehow know what she was thinking? Mia closed her eyes and leaned back, allowing him to rub away 12 years' worth of pain and heartache. Perhaps there was something to be said for forgetting things... the bad things, at least. Why had she put so much stock into what those people had said?

"Peter, we're back!"

Peter withdrew his hands quickly, as though he'd been caught in a scandalous act. Mia didn't think there was anything particularly scandalous about a shoulder massage (she was rather enjoying it), but she supposed for Peter, who preferred to embrace the demeanor of a child rather than the teenaged, nearly adult boy he truly was, it could be a source of embarrassment to be seen engaging in an act even minimally intimate.

The Lost Boys gathered around, armed with their 'supplies.' Nibs and Curly each held a wicker basket filled with all manner of fruits from the recognizable – berries, apples, mangoes – to the more exotic. The Twins each held a glass jar. Inside shined several tiny golden orbs, which Mia at first though were fairies. But before she could chastise the Twins for imprisoning the poor little fairy folk, she realized they were in fact large fireflies. These jars, along with the baskets of fruit, were placed on a large tree stump beside the tub.

Dusk had fallen, turning the sky a deep violet-blue. The firefly lanterns provided the perfect ambient lighting. Tootles toddled up to Mia, holding something behind his back. Mia smiled at him.

"Whatchya' got there, Tootles?" she asked the youngest Lost Boy.

"A present," said Tootles, taking his hands out from behind his back and presenting it to her. It was a circlet of interwoven flowers.

"Oh, wow. It's lovely, Tootles," said Mia, taking it into her hands.

Tootles beamed.

"Did you make this all by yourself?"

"Slightly helped," he said, glancing at Slightly, who blushed when Mia looked his way.

"Well, thank you both. It's beautiful," she said, placing it atop her head. "How do I look?"

"Pretty!" said Tootles, giving her a big smile full of pearly white baby teeth.

Mia looked at Peter. "Peter?"

"Like a princess," he said with a grin.

Now it was Mia's turn to blush. She certainly felt like a princess with her diadem of flowers and the undersea treasure necklace Peter had given her earlier that day. In some ways, with the nice bath and the baskets of fruit and all the spoiling, she almost felt like a mother on Mother's Day, and the Lost Boys her children. But she'd never admit that to Peter. She knew he wouldn't be happy with the comparison, particularly because she recalled Tiger Lily's words the previous night.

_"He's long since given up his infatuation with mothers. Though I suppose one would, when the girl you brought to Neverland to be your mother abandoned you. He's tried very hard to forget it, which is why it would be best if you never mention Wendy or the Darling children to him. He doesn't take too well to such reminders."_

And Mia remembered all too well the tense scene between Peter and Wendy towards the end of Barrie's play. They had been playing house, pretending to be Father and Mother to the Lost Boys and Wendy's brothers, but Wendy had grown more and more attached to the idea, particularly where it concerned her relationship with Peter. Mia recalled their dialogue.

" _Peter, what is it?"_

_"I was just thinking, it is only make-believe, isn't it, that I am their father?"_

_"Oh, yes."_

_"You see, it would make me seem so old to be their real father."_

_"But they are ours, Peter, yours and mine."_

_"But not really, Wendy?"_ he had asked anxiously.

_"Not if you don't wish it,"_ Wendy had said, and Peter had been relieved.

Then, she'd asked him that ultimate, poignant question.

_"Peter, what are your exact feelings for me?"_

_"That of a devoted son, Wendy."_

_"I thought so,"_ she had said disappointedly.

_"You are so queer. And Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother."_

" _No, indeed, it is not."_

_"Then what is it?"_

" _It isn't for a lady to tell."_

It made Mia wonder... What were Peters feelings for _her?_ But then, the warning from Tiger Lily rang in her head.

" _Don't fall in love with him. It'll only end in heartbreak."_

Mia chewed her lip pensively as she sank lower into the hot tub.

The evening wore on. The Lost Boys had tuckered themselves out and fell into a doze outside the tree which served as entrance to their hideout. Peter, however, continued to dote on Mia with tender ministrations, keeping the fire beneath the bath lit and offering her the sweet fruits.

"Peter," she said, her hands cupping a persimmon that he'd peeled for her. "Would you play your flute for me?"

"Of course, Mia. After all, tonight you are my princess."

He stood in front of her and bowed deeply as though he were a musician commissioned to play for her royal highness. Mia blushed and sank lower into the water to hide her incriminating smile.

He took a seat on the tree stump among the jars of glowing fireflies and began to play. This time, the tune was cheerful and sprightly. It almost sounded like something one might hear at a Renaissance Fair. As Mia watched him play, the most extraordinary thing happened. Dozens of fairies floated down from the trees and began to do a little dance around his head.

Peter always kept his eyes closed when he played, as though he were concentrating or just enjoying the music. But at the sound of Mia's delighted giggles, he opened one eye and grinned at her around the reed pipes. More fairies flitted out from the depths of the forest and began to dance around the tub, as though putting on a show for Mia, who was quite relieved that Tinker Bell was not among their ranks. She did not think the jealous little pixie would approve of the luxurious treatment she was receiving.

When Peter switched to a lullaby melody, the fairies began to slow in their dance. A few of them lifted their tiny hands to their mouths and yawned. One by one, they began to depart, leaving Mia and Peter alone with the fireflies and moonlight. Mia yawned, too. Her eyelids began to droop. The hot steamy bathwater, the scent of the rose petals, and the soft melody from Peter's flute lulled her to sleep.

Gradually, the sounds of the flute died and the only sound left to serenade Mia's doze was the chirping of crickets and the lapping of the bathwater as someone leaned over the tub.

"Mia... Wake up, Mia."

Who was that? It almost sounded like Peter. But it couldn't be, for the voice which spoke sounded older.

"Come on, Mia. The fire's gone out. You have to get out of the tub or you'll catch cold."

Mia made a low groan in the back of her throat, too content to fully awaken. She was lifted out of the tub. It felt as though she was floating, like a leaf carried on a gentle breeze. She was laid upon a soft surface and something warm and furry was draped over her. With a contented sigh, she rolled onto her side. A hand brushed her hair behind her ear. The last thing she felt was a soft sensation against her cheek, like the brush of a feather, as she drifted into pleasant dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peter and Wendy quotes in this chapter are from the Peter Pan play/stage performance written by James M. Barrie and is still in copyright in the US and Spain. I do not own the play.


	26. Beneath the Glow of the Fairy Tree

The lab of Kevin Flynn, Imagineer, was oddly silent this morning. The sounds of '80s synthpop music had been replaced with the softer sounds of drizzling coffee percolators and rapid-fire keyboard tapping. Flynn was on his third cup of black coffee. He hated it black, but it was a necessary evil so as not to dilute the wakefulness effect of the bitter caffeine.

"Okay, CLU. I need you to process this data and see if you can find any definitive patterns."

"Yes, sir," came the stiff, robotic voice.

"This is a rush job, CLU."

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

The door to Flynn's lab slid open and Professor Mercurial entered, looking unusually worn and haggard. Flynn glanced up at him.

"You look awful," he said.

"Thanks," Blair muttered, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Any luck on the old dirigible?"

Blair gave a sardonic snort. " _Old_ dirigible is right. It's been so long since I last used the thing. I hadn't realized it had fallen into such disrepair. Progress has been slower than I would like."

"Can't you just, you know, _imagine_ it fixed and ready to go?"

"If only it were that easy. It's one thing to use my imagination to change Figment's size, but a large piece of machinery like that, with all its intricate parts and processes, is entirely different. I'd have to keep all of those little processes in my mind at all times, imagine every bolt, every screw, every piston and the way it moves—"

"All right, all right," said Flynn, waving him off. "I get it. Talk about brain overload, man."

"Besides," Blair sighed, taking a seat in the swivel chair and rolling it up beside Flynn, "Even a functioning Dream Machine is no good to me if I don't know where I'm going."

"I'm working on that. So far, I've come across the last 10 documented sightings of Neverland logged by sailing ships. I'm having CLU analyze the coordinates and see if he can deduce a pattern and formulate an algorithm to predict its next location. The only problem is, the sightings happened over a 12-year period, so there are gaps where it might not have been sighted. It may not be enough for him to work off of."

"At least you're trying," said Blair with a weak smile. "That's all any of us can do. I thank you, Flynn."

"Hey, don't mention it, man. Anything for Mia."

Blair cocked an eyebrow.

Flynn quickly returned his gaze to the computer screen, taking sip of coffee.

"Sir," came CLU's voice from the computer monitor. "I have finished analyzing the data as requested."

"And?"

"No distinct pattern was found."

Flynn pounded his fist against the desk. "Damn!"

"Blast!" said Blair.

Flynn sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Don't worry, Prof. I'll keep researching. We'll figure this out somehow."

Blair placed a hand on Flynn's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. He felt despair rising in his throat like a lump, threatening to choke him.

"At the very least, Cindy's sent out a fleet of ships to look for Mia, and Vandsgaard and Rosebriar have also commissioned their navies for the job," said Flynn, trying to be positive. "That's gotta count for something."

"Of course it _counts,_ "said Blair."But is it enough? Dizgaia's oceans are vast and Neverland _moves_. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Yeah, man. It makes me wonder how... you know... how _he_ does it," said Flynn a twinge uncomfortably. "Hook, I mean."

Blair shook his head solemnly. "One can only assume by some dark magic."

"But Hook isn't... He's just a regular man, right?"

"He's not _magic,_ if that's what you mean. But to consider James Hook a _regular man_ is a dangerous error to make. He's formidable. One should never forget that." Blair leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "No, I suspect his method of locating Neverland is with the aid of Maleficent's magic."

Flynn's fingers flew across the keyboard once more as he surfed the DizNet. "Woah. Speaking of Hook..."

"What?"

"Look at this!"

"What is it?"

"An article I found, published yesterday in the Daily Thorn... That's Rosebriar's newspaper," he added.

"Yes, Kevin," said Blair exasperatedly. "I may not use the DizNet, but I assure you I'm not so old that I don't know what a newspaper is. What does it say?"

"Sorry, Prof. Apparently one of Rosebriar's naval ships engaged the Jolly Roger in battle yesterday morning. According to the Daily Thorn..."

He read:

_Rosebriar's navy is on commission by Princess Cynthia Whitehall of Cerenopia to search for the missing daughter of an esteemed Cerenopian dignitary..._

"That's a little generous, referring to me as a 'dignitary.'"

"At least they're respecting Cindy's request to keep your identities anonymous," said Flynn. "With any luck, the Dark Ones won't realize it's Mia."

He continued to read the article out loud.

_The Jolly Roger sank the naval vessel._

"Oooh... That's not good."

_Eleven men killed; 24 survived, many of whom were wounded._

"Yikes. But do you see? Hook might've been on his way to Neverland! If we could just track Hook's ship..."

"How? Besides, that would be a fool's errand. And even if we could, I pray to all the deities of Dizgaia he's not en route for the island now. I don't want my daughter anywhere near that scoundrel." Blair rose to his feet and gave Flynn's shoulder another squeeze. "Keep searching, Flynn. I've got to get back to work myself. In the meantime, we'll just have to hope Peter will keep Miandra safe in our stead."

"But Pan's just a kid!"

Blair frowned thoughtfully. "No... No, I suspect he's far more than that. More than even _he_ realizes. What matters is that a noble heart beats beneath that childish exterior. With any luck, he'll play guardian not only to Neverland, but to my daughter during her stay there."

"One can only hope," said Flynn scathingly. "It's the least he can do, seeing as he kidnapped her and all."

He took an angry sip of coffee and scalded his throat.

"Yow!"

~~~

Peter blew pixie dust from the palm of his hand as though he were blowing a kiss . Mia closed her eyes. The golden powder settled on her face and atop her head, and was quickly absorbed.

"Just think of a wonderful thought," he instructed.

"Any happy little thought?" asked Mia.

She couldn't resist.

"Yeah. Anything!"

"All right. A happy thought," she mused. Well, that was easy. She was on Neverland! With Peter Pan! What could be happier than that? With a cry of delight Mia shot straight into the air.

"We can see your panties!" shouted the Twins from below.

"Well, don't look, then," she shouted back, as she closed her legs and tried to tuck her dress between them.

She was still no closer to solving the mystery of what she was beginning to think of as 'The Neverland Dress Line.' Every morning when she woke up, she found that a new one seemed to have sprouted upon her person during the night. At first, she thought Peter was somehow responsible, but now she wasn't so sure. She knew Peter must have put her to bed last night, but she was pretty certain he hadn't changed her. Perhaps it was the magic of Neverland, the living island, choosing the clothes for her.

This time her dress was green (not so unlike the shade of Peter's leafy skirt) and somewhat sheer with pink primroses lining the vine belt. Mia fancied it made her look like a woodland nymph. She wondered if she ought to make more of an effort to question the phenomenon of these magically sprouted dresses, but she quickly became concerned with more pressing matters. She was floating higher and higher, almost uncontrollably. She called down to Peter in a panic.

"H-How do I stop? How do I get back down? Do I just think of something sad?"

"No! Don't do that!" Peter exclaimed, aghast. "That'll just make you plummet really fast! All you have to do is... you know... _will_ yourself to lower. It's sort of a mind-over-matter thing. Wherever you want to go, however fast or slow, just think it. Move your arms a little. That can sometimes help. Like this."

Peter demonstrated and Mia did as he said. Gently, she lowered back to the ground.

"That was great, Mia! Now you're ready for our Treasure Hunt game!" Peter handed her a crudely drawn map.

"What good will _this_ do me?" she asked. "I mean, what's the point in a map? Isn't the island constantly changing?"

"Some things stay in the same spot no matter what, but I drew this map this morning. So everything on there is as it is now."

Mia looked over the map. "Isn't there supposed to be an X marks the spot or something?"

Peter grinned and put his hands on his hips. "Nope! But we gave you clues. See? Look." He pointed to a place on the map with very bad handwriting and accompanying illustrations.

"Peter, I can't read this."

"Why not?"

"I mean, no offense, but your penmanship is atrocious. And everything is spelled really badly."

"Well..." said Peter, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. "I suppose I'll just have to go with you and give you hints as we go. Boys, you know what to do."

The boys groaned. Today they were particularly filthy. They looked as though they'd been playing in the dirt. Mia wondered if perhaps they'd dug up the treasure – assuming, of course, it had been buried. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about digging for it.

The boys trotted off through the woods. Peter quickly grabbed Mia by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Whoops," he said. "Can't have you see which direction they go. That might give it away."

"They seemed a little annoyed to be sent off," she said.

"Aw, they're just tired from all that digging. They don't want to go all the way back to... Whoops. I almost gave it away. But they'll be fine. We just have to wait and give them a bit of a head start to get there. Then we can get the treasure hunt underway."

When they'd waited for what Peter deemed long enough, he held out his hand and Mia took it.

"You ready?" he asked. "Come on, let's fly!"

For the first time, Mia took to the air alongside him instead of in his arms. They were equals, gliding through the air, hands held between them. The wind caressed her face and ruffled her hair. She laughed and glanced at Peter, who grinned at her.

"This is great!" she exclaimed as they rose above the treetops.

"I know, right? You can see everything from up here. The whole island!"

Sure enough, Mia had a literal bird's eye view of Neverland. From up here, seeing it in its entirety, it was even more breathtaking. Mia still had the map clutched in one hand. Peter had worked hard on it, so she was reluctant to let it go. But she didn't see how she could make use of it.

"Okay, Mia. Your first clue is this: It can't see inside, only outside."

"That sounds more like a riddle."

"Well, it's the first clue," he said cheerily.

Mia thought about it, but she couldn't come up with a sensible conclusion. What kind of clue _was_ that, anyway? Perhaps she shouldn't put too much stock in it. Peter and the Lost Boys weren't exactly known for their high intellect. It could mean anything.

"I don't know, Peter," Mia sighed. "Maybe I'll just guess at some things and you can tell me if I'm hot or cold, okay?"

"Oh, all right," said Peter glumly.

"Well, I don't imagine it'd be in Tiger Lily's village," said Mia as they flew over the native camp, trailing their hands through the sweet-smelling smoke clouds that rose into the sky from the morning bonfires. The natives must be cooking something delicious for breakfast. Mia's stomach grumbled enviously.

"Nope," said Peter.

"All right, then. In that case, it also couldn't be in the lagoon. Besides, the Lost Boys were dirty from digging, so it couldn't be underwater treasure."

"Right again," said Peter delightedly, flipping onto his back with his arms tucked behind his head as he floated on the air.

Mia sighed. If it had been buried, it could be anywhere. "How about the mountains?" she asked as they soared over Neverland's peaks.

"Cold."

"Okay..."

Man, this game could take forever, and she was getting hungry. Mia's eyes swept the island once more, gazing out beyond the forest where she knew the Lost Boys' hideout to be, out to the sea. There, about a kilometer from the northeastern shore of the island, was a familiar structure that she recalled from the Disney movie.

Skull Rock.

"There," said Mia, grinning confidently and pointing to it. "It's inside Skull Rock."

"Aw man... You figured it out so fast," Peter whined.

"To be fair, the clue might've been a little too generous," Mia told him. "At first, I had no idea what it could mean, but that rock... Once you see it, it's pretty obvious."

"You sure are smart, Mia. That's something I really like about you." Suddenly, he pulled her into his arms and spun around in the air with her.

Mia was perplexed by his sudden behavior. He held her close against him as they hovered in the clouds. Then he released her with a twirl, like they were dancers at a ball held in the sky.

"Come on!" he said, as though he'd had enough fooling around for one day. "Let's go!"

With her hand in his, he darted down through the clouds towards Skull Rock while Mia tried to catch her breath and calm her fluttering heart. His vacillations between romantic and childlike were giving her mental whiplash.

They flew in through the skull's left eye and landed upon a rocky mound. Below them on the sand sat the Lost Boys. A couple crudely-made rowboats were docked nearby at the mouth of the skull. Peter let out a crow and the boys leapt to their feet.

"What? Already?" exclaimed Slightly.

"How'd she figure it out so quick?" asked Nibs.

"Because our Mia is smart!" said Peter, putting his hands on his hips and casting her a sideways grin.

Mia's lips quirked.

_Our_ Mia, huh?

"Come on, Mia! Celebrate! Belt out a crow!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You know... crow. Like this." Peter lifted off his feet into the air and belted out another crow. "See? Now you."

"It'll sound silly coming from me," said Mia, flushing embarrassedly.

"Nah," said Peter. "Come on! Let out a crow! Celebrate!"

"Yeah! Come on, Mia!" the Lost Boys cheered.

Mia rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. "All right, all right," she said. "A little less noise there." Taking a deep breath, she lifted off her feet into the air and belted out a proud rooster crow.

The Lost Boys cheered as she lowered back to her feet.

Mia grinned. That had been surprisingly invigorating.

"Come on. Let's check out your treasure, huh?" said Peter, beckoning to her. They flew off the rock, landing on the sand in front of an open treasure chest. Gold doubloons, pieces of eight, silver goblets, precious gems, and expensive jewelry spilled out of it.

" _My_ treasure?" said Mia, gaping at it in awe. "But what would I even do with it?"

"Well, if you want to get technical, it's really _Hook's_ treasure, but we found it and claimed it as our own."

"What do _you_ do with it?"

"Nothing, really," said Peter with a shrug. "We don't exactly have a need for it. Not on Neverland, and why would we ever leave?"

"Why, indeed," Mia mused.

"Mostly we just dig it up every once in a while, then move it and bury it somewhere else."

"Why somewhere else?"

"To annoy Hook, of course."

"Of course," said Mia, rolling her eyes. "How silly of me."

"But you can pick something out for yourself before we bury it again, if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Sure! You found it, after all."

Mia rifled through the treasure eagerly. These contents must be worth several fortunes! Oh, the things she could buy with it all! She could live like royalty! But then, when she thought about it, she was already so content with things as they were. She didn't need a bigger house. She didn't need to live in a mansion or a castle. She didn't need servants to wait upon her. The beautiful rustic house atop Tomorrow Hill with her beloved father and dragon was all she could ever ask for.

For a sudden heart wrenching moment, Mia hesitated, gazing out across the water through the gaping mouth of Skull Rock, not really seeing the scenery so much as looking back on a very recent past that had been alluding her during her time on Neverland. Her father! The Dreamfinder! And Figment! She'd almost forgotten! How long had she been gone? She hadn't any way of knowing. Time ran so differently on Neverland. They must be worried to death! How could she do this to them? How could she be so selfish?

"Hey, Mia!" called the Twins, pulling her out of her head. "Come on! Pick something!"

"Yeah," echoed Peter. "Consider it a gift from us to you."

Her momentary reverie was instantly forgotten and Mia rifled through the treasure once more. She had no need for coins or diamonds and large gems. Perhaps some jewelry, then. There was a gold tiara which looked like it might have belonged to a real princess; perhaps an heirloom to a royal family. Mia was very tempted, but she still wore the circlet of flowers Slightly and Tootles had made her last night, and she wouldn't want to hurt their feelings. That floral crown and the necklace Peter had given her from Mermaid Lagoon were both so special, she wouldn't trade them for anything.

Mia settled for a silver anklet with tiny emerald studs embedded within it, and a gold arm cuff that looked like two intertwined snakes. Its design was reminiscent of something worn by Egyptian royalty. Mia put it on, fancying she looked a little like Cleopatra.

"All right, boys!" said Peter. "Let's bury it back up!"

The Lost Boys groaned.

"Come on! Look, alive, lads! Besides, I'll help you this time. Let's start by filling up this hole," he said pointing to the freshly made hole in the sand where the Lost Boys had dug up the treasure.

"Wait," said Mia as they all grabbed their shovels. "Why are you filling it up?"

"I _told_ you, Mia. We're going to bury it somewhere else so Hook has trouble finding it," Peter explained. "We do it all the time. It's great fun! Hmm... There! That looks like a good spot!" He pointed to a place a foot or two to the left.

"But Peter, that's only a couple feet away from where it was," said Mia. "Why—"

"Because! It's hilarious watching him and his crew dig all through Skull Rock looking for it when it's only an inch or two away from where it started!"

Mia sighed and shook her head. She saw the humor in the situation, but she wasn't sure if she approved of Peter constantly antagonizing his mortal enemy. If Mia didn't know Hook was a villain, she'd almost feel bad for the poor guy. Almost.

~~~

Dusk had fallen on the island. But for the chirping of crickets, all was quiet. Then, from the hollowed tree which served as the entrance to the boys' hideout, a shout was heard.

"Fie, you devil! I shall be taken in by you no longer!"

Armed with Tootles' wooden sword, Mia thrust at an invisible enemy.

"And Diana smote him on the spot, seemingly ending the despotic reign of so fierce an emperor. Little did she know, she had really delivered the deathblow to her own father who, by a witch's spell, had been given the guise of Emperor Vazeel as part of a plot by the wicked ruler himself to render her vulnerable so that he might take her for his bride."

Mia lowered the sword and waited with baited breath for the boys' reaction. She had taken a chance on regaling them with one of her own personal tales, remembering Peter's question to her the previous night.

_How come you won't tell us_ your _stories?_

And his other words.

_Forget them, Mia. Forget them all._

Mia thought it sage advice from one so naïve and immature as Peter, and she sought to follow it now, but not without a bit of trepidation.

The boys stared at her in resounding silence. Then there was an explosion.

"WHAT?"

"Wait, so Emperor Vazeel was her dad all along?"

"No, dummy. Weren't you listening to her? Emperor Vazeel had the palace witch put a spell on Diana's father to make him _look_ like Emperor Vazeel so that Diana would kill her father instead of him!"

"Yeah, see, now without Diana's father to protect her, Emperor Vazeel can swoop in and force her to marry him!"

"Oh no! Maybe Diana needs to get another dad to protect her!"

"She can't get _another_ dad, dummy. It doesn't work like that."

_Another dad..._

This triggered something in Mia, something almost long forgotten; a vivid memory of her own father. Not Blair Mercurial, but Edward Baxter, standing between her and Gaston, trying to protect her. Her breath hitched and her heart began to pound.

A hand came to her shoulder. "Mia, are you okay?"

The memory fled as quickly as it had come and Mia gave her head a little shake. "Peter? Yeah, uh, what's up?"

He was gazing at her with concern etched across his face. "You tell me. You kind spaced out for a second there, and you had this awful look on your face. Is something wrong?"

"I... I don't know," she said slowly, putting a hand to her head. "It was strange. It was like something popped into my head and immediately disappeared."

Peter frowned . He looked like he was about to say something, but Slightly shouted, "What a dirty trick that was! I sure hope that evil Emperor Vazeel gets his in the end!"

"In which end?" asked Nibs and the boys roared with laughter.

Grinning, Peter drew his sword and joined in. "Yeah! Should we cut up his face or shove it up his—"

"Peter!"

"What?" he said, turning to face Mia.

"Well, I mean, you _do_ know Emperor Vazeel isn't a real person, right? I just made him up."

"Oh," said Peter. "Right." Grinning embarrassedly, he sheathed his sword.

"I guess we all just got so mad at him that we forgot he wasn't real and wanted to kill him," said Slightly.

"Does that mean you guys like it?" Mia asked excitedly. "I mean, it's still a work in progress, but if you like it, then I know it must have potential."

"Yeah!" the Lost Boys chimed.

"It's exciting!"

"We can't wait to hear more!"

Mia beamed, pleased with herself. On the one hand, perhaps she shouldn't be too smug. After all, these were just little boys, and Peter was horribly uneducated himself. Their opinion, perhaps, should not be the final authority or an official critique on the story. Still, there had to be something said for her skill, if it had the power to entertain children.

"But Mia, if you made Emperor Vazeel up, why did you let him do that horrible thing to Diana and her father?" asked Curly.

"Yeah! You could've stopped him if you wanted to," said the Twins.

"Well," said Mia, taking a seat on the edge of the small oak bed with all its furred linens. Peter had made it for her during her first week in Neverand, what seemed like so long ago now. "It's not that I wanted him to. I didn't take pleasure out of him doing it. It's just... sometimes to tell a compelling story, you have to have a good antagonist."

"What's an antagonist?"

"An antagonist is like... Well, like a bad guy. And a _pro_ tagonist is a good guy."

"So..." said Nibs, slowly working it out in his head. "Peter would be a protagonist and Captain Hook would be an antagonist."

"That's a perfect example, Nibs!"

Nibs blushed and puffed his chest with pride.

"But why have an antagonist at all?" asked Slightly. "Why not just write a story about good guys and no bad guys? That way nothing bad can ever happen."

"It's like I said, sometimes you need a bad guy to tell a compelling story. Think about it. Would the story of Diana and her father and Emperor Vazeel be as interesting if Emperor Vazeel wasn't in it?"

The boys tilted their heads thoughtfully.

"Hmm... I guess not," said Slightly.

Mia caught Peter's eye. He was leaning against the earthen wall with his arms crossed, smiling at her. Mia felt her cheeks warming. She quickly averted her gaze and continued to talk to the Lost Boys who were all gathered around her in a circle.

"A good guy is kind of like the day, and a bad guy is like the night. You can't have one without the other. Would the day be as interesting if there wasn't a night? Or the night as interesting if there wasn't a day?"

"Hey, that's a good point!" said the Twins.

"And think of it this way. Even the stories about Peter Pan might not be as interesting without Captain Hook in them. After all, who would Peter have to fight and cross blades with if not Captain Hook?"

"There are stories about Peter?" they asked, awestruck. This even had Peter intrigued, as he stepped away from the wall and moved closer.

"Of course there are," said Mia. "There's plenty of stories about him on the other side."

"The other side? What other side?"

"You know," said Mia, "Earth."

"Ohhh... Earth. I... I've heard of that place before. Didn't we used to know someone who came from there?" asked Curly, but Slightly nudged him in the ribs and gave him a warning look.

Mia had a feeling she knew what that meant. They didn't want to bring up Wendy in front of Peter. She silently cursed her lack of tact. She shouldn't have mentioned Earth.

"How do you know about Earth, Mia?" asked Nibs. "Have you ever been there?"

"Well..." Mia hesitated. Perhaps it was time to tell Peter the truth about her situation; about where she came from, who she really was, and why it was so important for her to return to Cerenopia. But at her mention of Earth, Peter had moved away from the group and was now skulking despondently in the far corner of the den.

Mia chewed her lip. It seemed her untactful mention of Earth had upset him. Now what would she do? Perhaps a quick change of subject was in order.

"So anyway," she said quickly. "The story's still a work in progress, but if you guys like it, I'll gladly finish it. I just have to decide if the story is gonna have a happy ending or a tragic one."

"What?" asked the Twins, aghast.

"Why would you want a tragic ending?" asked Nibs.

"Shouldn't every story have a _happy_ ending?" asked Curly.

"Well," said Mia, "Sometimes real life doesn't end happily. And I believe someone once said 'art imitates life,' so I suppose that's why. Though I wouldn't expect you to understand," she said with a kind smile. "No doubt for Peter Pan and the Lost Boys on Neverland, every ending is a happy ending."

"Not always," Slightly said softly. He cast a hasty glance at Peter, who was sitting far across the room, morosely whittling a hunk of wood with his dagger.

Mia didn't like seeing Peter this way, and she felt bad because she knew it was sort of her fault. She had to figure out a way to get him out of this sudden funk. She had to take his mind off Earth. And yet, at the same time, she couldn't believe she was thinking of how to do that. It was the perfect time to bring up the fact that that's where _she_ was from, and why she was in Dizgaia in the first place, and why it was important she be returned to the Dreamfinder. But before she could make a decision, the Lost Boys were clamoring at her again.

"We want a _happy_ ending, Mia," said the Twins.

"Yeah! Please make it a happy ending," said Curly. "Please?"

This sentiment was likewise echoed by Slightly and Nibs.

"Okay, okay," said Mia with a laugh. "I'll make it a happy ending." She felt a tugging on the hem of her dress and glanced down. "What's up, Tootles?"

The youngest Lost Boy was gazing up at her with his wide brown eyes. "Can I have a happy ending, too, Mia?" he asked softly.

Mia was taken aback by this request. The other Lost Boys had asked that she give her story a happy ending. But Tootles seemed to be asking for a happy ending for himself personally. That was a request Mia wasn't sure she could grant. She patted the bed beside her and he joined her upon it.

"What's the matter, Tootles? Aren't you happy already? Besides, I don't think your personal story is going to be ending any time soon, and I'm sure if you want it badly enough, you have the power to make your own life happy," she said, smiling down at him.

Tootles stared at his feet and stuck his thumb in his mouth as though he were mustering up the courage to ask his next question. "Mia," he said timidly. "Will you... Will you be our new mother?"

It was as though a switch had been flipped. Before Mia could reply, Peter was on his feet shouting, "NO!" His green eyes were wild and furious as he strode towards them. "No mothers! Never ask that again! Mia is our storyteller! That's it! Now go! Get to bed!" He thrust a finger towards Tootles' bed.

Tootles, trembling from the angry scolding, lowered his head shamefully and stammered, "A-A-Aye, Peter..." and hurried off to his bunk.

Peter's wild gaze fell on the rest of the Lost Boys. "What are you all looking at? Go on!"

The Lost Boys scattered, disappearing to their bunks, leaving a seething Peter alone with a bewildered Mia. For a moment, the two of them stood in silence. Then, furious, Mia rounded on him.

"You know, sometimes you are such a jerk, Peter Pan!" she shouted. "Just because you have a mommy complex doesn't give you the right to treat him that way! He's just a little boy!"

Peter said nothing. Nothing at all. He simply looked at her with those eyes; eyes which were slowly losing their anger and filling with another emotion he would never name. Mia brushed past him to search for Tootles.

Peter lowered his head, his fists clenching at his sides. "What do you know, anyway?" he muttered.

Mia followed the sounds of sniffling to the smallest bunk where Tootles lay. He was curled up, facing the wall. His little shoulders shook as he sniffled and wiped away tears. Mia knelt down beside his bed and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't cry, Tootles," she said softly.

With a sniffle, Tootles rolled over, gazing up at her with wide, tear-glistening eyes.

"Peter shouldn't have yelled at you," she said, "But, you know, he wasn't entirely wrong. I'm afraid I can't be your mother."

The boy's eyes welled with more tears, but Mia quickly put a finger to his lips, stopping his encroaching sobs.

"But," she said, "I _can_ be your big sister."

It was the perfect answer. One which would grant her immunity from the responsibility of motherhood, for which she was certainly too young and inexperienced, while also sparing the boy's feelings.

Tootles stared blankly at her.

"Do you know what a big sister is?"

He shook his head.

"Well, a big sister is _almost_ like a mother, except younger. She may try to boss you around sometimes, but she can't _really_ tell you what to do. You don't have to obey her the way you would a mother. And even though she might not love you in quite the same _way_ that a mother does, she still cares very much about you and loves you in her own fashion. She's a friend, a confidante, and someone who always looks out for you."

Tootles' tear-filled eyes grew wider. They seemed to shimmer hopefully, so Mia went on.

"Now, the other things about sisters that sets them apart from mothers – and this is really important – is that sometimes they do leave. But when they leave, it's different than a mother leaving. When a mother leaves, they call that abandonment. That's what happened with Wendy, wasn't it?"

The boy's eyes widened at her mention of Wendy. That was a taboo topic. Just as forbidden, or maybe even more so, than talk of mothers. Fresh tears trickled from his eyes.

"Well," said Mia, gently wiping his tears away with her thumb. "I'm willing to bet that's why Peter doesn't want another mother around. He won't admit it, but he's afraid she'll abandon you again, and it makes him sad to see you boys sad. But the nice thing about sisters is even though they may leave, and many do for a number of reasons – some go off to college and get married and have families of their own – they never forget you. They always care about you and they always come back for a visit. Do you understand, Tootles?"

Tootles sniffled a few more times and scrunched up his face in thought. Then, slowly, a smile came to his face.

"O-Okay. Big sister Mia!"

Mia grinned and ruffled his hair. "And little brother Tootles. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Tootles nodded, his eyes drooping sleepily. Mia pulled the fur blankets over him, tucking him in. She'd come up with this solution as a way of soothing the little boy, but she'd also grown so fond of the boys that she had already started to think of them as though they were her little brothers. As an only child, she'd always wanted a younger sibling. Now she had six of them.

Smiling tenderly, she stroked Tootles' hair until he drifted off to sleep, which didn't take very long at all. His last words to her were spoken with a yawn.

"Can you... can you at least stay longer than the Belle lady did?"

But before Mia could give him a proper answer, he had succumbed the sweet siren's call of sleep.

Mia wandered through the underground hideout, contemplative. There was no sign of Peter. She was starting to worry. Perhaps she'd been hasty to yell at him, but she had to tend to poor Tootles. And Peter had to know he couldn't just snap like that. But maybe he couldn't help it. After all, there were Tiger Lily's words to consider. Peter had never been quite the same since Wendy left. He must still be hurting inside.

"Peter," Mia called softly, but there was no answer.

"He went out."

It was Slightly who spoke. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing dolefully at her.

"Don't hate Peter, Mia. He doesn't mean it. We've all learned not to talk about mothers anymore. But Tootles is little and doesn't understand."

"Tootles will be all right now," said Mia, smiling kindly at the eldest Lost Boy. "And I don't hate Peter."

Slightly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't worry. I'll go find him." She climbed the root ladder and exited through the hollow tree above.

Outside, Mia walked a few paces away from the underground home and paused for a moment to take in the full Nevermoon in all its bright splendor as it cast its silver beams through the canopy of leaves above. With a sigh, she leaned against a tree and lost herself in thought.

_What have you gotten yourself into, Mia? Of course, you can't be these boys' mother. And you certainly don't_ want _to be. A big sister, though? That's fine. But what happens when it's time to leave? Is it really ethical to leave these little boys all alone to fend for themselves without adult supervision?_

It was one thing in the stories. No one questioned the morality of leaving them on Neverland. But this was real life. Even if she left, she couldn't take them back with her. Like Peter said, if they were to remember that they were the spirits of dead children, if they left Neverland, they might disappear forever. Therefore, they must remain. But alone and without someone to take care of them? Could she really in good conscience abandon them?

But surely, she wasn't expected to be responsible for them. She was only 19. Besides, Peter took good care of them. But was it enough? It couldn't be, could it? Sure, he could protect them, and Mia was certain he loved them in his own way. But he was too impulsive and moody and simpleminded. In that way, he wasn't entirely reliable.

_That settles it. I'll stay._

She frowned as an opposing thought came to her mind.

_Oh, but I shouldn't. Dad and everyone back on Cerenopia will be worried sick about me. It's not right to make them worry. Not to mention Captain Hook could return at any moment, and he's one of the Dark Ones, and they're allegedly after me. It can't be safe for me to stay here._

Mia began to pace.

"What do I do?" she wondered out loud. "Do I leave? Do I stay? Oh, what to do, what to do?" She halted in her pacing and let out a groan. "Ugh. Great. Now I sound like Winnie the Pooh." She let out another sigh and leaned against the tree with her arms crossed as she stared at the ground.

_I'm pretty sure Peter's mad at me now. I shouldn't have been so hard on him. It's textbook behavior of someone with abandonment issues. What should I do about him? Oh man, I_ knew _I should've taken a second semester of child psychology! You never really know when you're going to need it._

Burying her face in her hands, she slumped into a sitting position at the base of the tree, wondering what to do about the many moral quandaries plaguing her brain. Her thoughts began to drift away as the breeze carried a soft tune to her ears. She recognized the instrument right away. A pan flute. There was only one person on Neverland who played such a flute – the one who shared its name. Mia rose to her feet and followed the sound through the woods.

Peter sat high up in the thick boughs of a tree near the meadow at the center of the forest. He leaned against the trunk of the tree, one leg hanging off the branch as he played his flute.

_Mothers,_ he thought scathingly. _Why did Tootles have to bring up mothers? And Mia! What does_ she _know about things anyway?_

Peter didn't want a mother. The Lost Boys didn't need a mother either. They had _him._ He was all they needed! He could take care of them and protect them. He did well enough, didn't he? Mothers just reminded Peter of... of something he didn't want to be reminded of. Some _one_ he didn't want to be reminded of. Someone he hadn't realized he wanted in a particular way until she was already gone and out of his life. And by then, it was too late.

Wishing to calm himself, Peter closed his eyes and continued to play a soothing melody on his flute. When he got like this, playing his flute was the only thing that could drown his thoughts and memories of the past. However, it brought something else to him. It brought to him the present, a chance to start anew. It brought... Mia.

"Peter? Peter!"

He heard her calling.

"Where are you?"

She was searching for him. For a moment, Peter paused in his playing. He considered going to her, but he didn't. Instead, he picked up the melody once more, drawing her to him with its melancholy tune. He watched as she stepped barefoot into the meadow below him.

How pretty she was with the moonlight shining upon her long, wavy hair! He could see she was looking for him, trying to follow the sound of his flute. But he was shrouded in the shadow of the tree, and she could not see him.

"Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you!" she called out into the night. "I shouldn't have. I just didn't think Tootles deserved to be spoken to like that. He's so very little. You have to be nice to them, you know. They depend on you. Anyway, listen... Thing is, I don't _want_ to be anyone's mother. I'm too young for that, and it's way too much responsibility. So please, Peter... Don't be mad at me! I can't bear the thought of you hating me!"

The music stopped. Mia could no longer hear the flute. The meadow was still and silent. Almost eerily so. Had Peter decided to put more distance between himself and her? But surely he wouldn't leave her alone in the woods so late at night, no matter how angry he was... right? Mia ventured towards the line of trees at the other end of the meadow. She had just taken a step around the side of a tree when Peter dropped down in front of her and clamped a hand over her mouth. Before Mia could fight him, he brought a single finger to his lips.

"Shh..." He lowered his hand from her mouth and beckoned her to follow him, speaking in a delicate whisper. "I wanna show you something."

Confused, Mia nonetheless followed silently. Peter led her along a narrow deer path through the woods until they finally came upon an opening. There, in the moonlight, Mia saw what was perhaps one of Neverland's largest and tallest trees with hollow openings at its base between the roots. Brilliant golden light poured through these hollows. Tiny golden orbs were floating around the outside as well, making the tree look as though it were illuminated for a winter solstice holiday. But these lights were moving as though they were alive. It took Mia only a second to understand what she was looking at.

"Fairies!" she whispered excitedly.

This certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen fairies on Neverland (after all, they'd danced around the tub last night), but never so many.

"Wow! There must be hundreds of them!"

"This is Pixie Hollow," Peter said softly. "It's where all the fairies on Neverland live. Tonight is the night of the fairy ball."

"A fairy ball? That sounds lovely!"

"Queen Mab holds them every seventh night when the moon is fully risen, and they dance until dawn."

_Queen Mab._

Now where had she heard that name before? Then, she recalled. Mab was referenced in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_ in a speech by Mercutio. She was said to be 'the fairies' midwife,' and to 'deliver the fancies of sleeping men,' giving birth to their dreams.

Could it be that even Shakespeare had once visited Dizgaia? Even James Barrie in his earliest _Peter Pan_ novel, _The Little White Bird_ , identified Queen Mab as the name of the fairy queen.

For some reason, a particular excerpt from Shakespeare's play stuck in her mind.

_And in this state, she gallops night by night  
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love_

Why did the mere memory of that line cause her to blush so?

"I come here by myself a lot," said Peter. "They don't really like people coming and watching them."

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "Though it seems a shame to enjoy it by your lonesome."

Mia reached out a hand, tentatively brushing his, almost fearing he might pull away and grow angry at her for her audacity. But to her surprise, Peter's hand grasped hers, his fingers intertwining with her own.

"Mia," he said quietly. "You were afraid that I'd hate you. You said it was unbearable... the thought of me hating you. You said... You said that you didn't want to be a mother." Peter turned towards her, his green eyes fixing her with their intense gaze. "Was that true? Was all of that true?"

"Y-Yes. Of course," she stammered, alarmed by his sudden intensity. "You were always my childhood hero, Peter. I'd be horribly upset if you hated me. As for being a mother, I'm too young to be thinking of that sort of thing. I don't even have a steady boyfriend," she added, not that this meant anything to Peter. "But Peter, while we're being honest, you _did_ really upset me the way you handled that situation with Tootles. He's just a little boy. You can't treat him like that."

"I know, I know! I didn't mean to," said Peter, running a hand through his hair. "I just lost my temper."

"Because he brought up mothers."

It was not a question. It was an observation. One which Peter didn't look too happy about.

"I mean, what's so bad about mothers, really?" Mia ventured somewhat timidly.

"What's wrong with mothers? _What's wrong with mothers, Mia?_ They leave you! They always leave! That's what's wrong with 'em!"

"Peter, I'm pretty sure not _all_ mothers are like that. Perhaps if you hadn't been trying to force prepubescent girls to be your mother, then—"

"Why, Mia? Why doesn't anyone want me?" he begged.

Suddenly Mia was certain he was talking about more than just the girls he brought to Neverland to be his mother. There was definitely something more to this.

"What's wrong with me? Am I not a wonderful boy?"

"Of course you're wonderful! You're Peter Pan!"

"Then why do they always leave, Mia?" he said, his eyes shining with what Mia was horrified to think might be tears. "Why do they always leave me?"

Mia was silent for a moment, remembering Tiger Lily's theory about Peter having a tragic past from before Neverland, one that he'd been trying hard for perhaps hundreds of years to forget.

"Peter," she said slowly. "What happened, you know, before Neverland?"

"I don't know about before," he mumbled.

"But for a moment there you did, didn't you? For a moment you were remembering."

"Yes, but it's gone now," he said looking away with a distant expression on his face. "It's not worth remembering."

"Maybe not," she agreed. "Maybe you're better off not knowing. But the feelings it causes, they don't disappear, do they? Not completely anyway."

Peter gazed sorrowfully at her. "Lonely... Abandoned..." he murmured. "These are the words that I feel right here." He took Mia's hand and pressed it against his chest over his heart.

In that moment, Mia's heart ached for the poor boy. She'd never seen him like this. It was almost frightening. But at the same time, it was so real. So human.

"But joy and adventure... They're in there, too. I want only to think of them."

Mia placed her other hand against Peter's cheek, caressing it tenderly. "You _try_ to," she said softly, "But you're not always successful."

Peter pulled away from her. "I used to be!" he shouted and Mia flinched. "But then _she_ came and messed it all up! If she'd only stayed, then... then..."

"You mean Wendy."

"Don't say her name!" he yelled, and Mia was alarmed to see tears rolling down his cheeks. Quickly, he spun around and put his back to her, not wanting her to see.

They had drawn a small audience of fairies. Apparently, the drama unfolding before them was more interesting than Queen Mab's ball. But Peter either didn't notice them or didn't care. For Mia's part, she had more important things to worry about.

"Peter, I don't think Wendy wanted to leave you, per se. I think she _did_ want you. But she wanted other things, too. Things she couldn't have if she stayed here with you. If you both wanted the same things, you could have gone off with her. But you didn't. She wanted to grow up, fall in love, and have a family. But you never wanted to grow up. So, you stayed, and she left."

Peter put his hands over his ears and shook his head violently. "Stop it! Stop it!" he cried.

_Now you've done it, Mia,_ she thought.

She'd done the one thing she was never supposed to do. She'd brought up Wendy. But technically Peter was the one who brought her up, in a manner of speaking. But that didn't mean it was safe to continue down this path and pursue this conversation, did it? What if her persistence broke him?

_Then you'll go down in history as the girl who broke Peter Pan,_ Mia thought grimly.

Nevertheless, as they'd come this far, she may as well see it to the end and hope for the best. Mia grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from his ears. He tried to fight her, but she held on tightly, determined to say her piece.

"I think people _do_ want you, Peter," she insisted. "But you make it hard because you're always giving them an ultimatum! They have to choose between you and growing up, or you or their parents. But Wendy, Tiger Lily, even Tinker Bell and the mermaids – they all wanted you, but not for a playmate. For something more! But I don't think you understood what it was at the time."

Peter's hands fell away from his ears. His arms hung at his sides as he lowered his head.

"But I understand _now_ , Mia," he said softly. "I do."

Slowly, he lifted his gaze, and Mia was no longer looking into the face of the 16-year-old boy, but a 19-year-old Peter on the cusp of early manhood.

"Mia," he said, drawing closer. "I want to give you a kiss."

Mia's eyes went wide. But of course, she knew what he really meant. Just as Peter had once held out his hand when Wendy had offered to give him a kiss, Mia now did the same.

Rolling his eyes, Peter closed her hand and lowered it. "Don't be daft, Mia."

Gulping nervously, Mia backed away from him, but he pursued her, undeterred, until her back was against a tree. He leaned in close. Mia could feel his breath on her face, and she could smell that intoxicating scent on him; the smell of someone who's ridden the back of the wind, the aroma of thousands of adventures. It was more potent than ever.

He took her face in his hands. One remained at her cheek while the other curled around the back of her head, his fingers burying themselves in her hair. He pressed his forehead against hers and gazed deeply into her eyes.

"I missed my chance last time because I didn't know then what I know now. I didn't remember... I didn't know what it could be like. I've been so lonely. But then I saw you... and you were... so different." His thumb caressed her cheek as his sea foam eyes gazed into her shimmering hazels. "I could never hate you, Mia," he whispered. "Never."

"P-Peter," Mia stammered. Her hands moved to his shoulders, seeking to push him away, but she found she lacked the strength. In fact, she wasn't so sure she _did_ want to push him away. Suddenly, Mia discovered that she wanted nothing more than to meet this new adventure head-on.

Peter's lips brushed against hers as he whispered her name.

"Mia."

Then, the beautiful, wonderful boy, who was almost a man, pressed his soft lips against hers and kissed her with a passionate fire. Mia wouldn't have expected it of him, and yet, like all things he did, Peter Pan was a masterful kisser. His lips were so tantalizingly soft. Like many of his features, they almost had a delicate, feminine quality to them. Almost. But the way he used those lips... There was nothing feminine about it.

Peter pressed his body flush against hers, his lean but strong torso pinning her to the tree. And although it was all so sudden, Mia allowed herself to indulge in the sweetness of his lips while the fairies did a celebratory dance above their heads, gently dusting them with golden splendor.

~~~

The lovely stars twinkle above, to light our way through the dark. They play not an active role, but they do take pride in the purpose they serve. They can be vain and conceited, for they know how beautiful they are. They cannot help showing off. But sometimes they wish they could dim their light, if only for a little while. And this night is one of those nights.

With the unwitting aid of the stars above to light its way, the Jolly Roger weighs anchor not far from the Mermaid's Lagoon, an eerie red light from its cabin glinting over the mouth of Crocodile Creek. From prow to stern, she is a formidable sight lying in the dark waters, hidden by the veil of night.

The denizens of Neverland are fast asleep. The mermaids are in their grottos, the natives are asleep in their tents, the Lost Boys are in their hideout, and even the crocodile is in his cave. It is the perfect time for a small landing party to scout out the island and see how it has changed since they last left it.

The captain gives his orders. Armed with a pistol, cutlass, a lantern and map each, the party splits up to explore their assigned regions. They are to chart their discoveries and return to the ship, whereupon they shall pool their findings and create a new map of the island. The captain himself takes to the Neverwood. His ghostly blue lantern lights his way through the dark like a will-o'-the-wisp.

Everything and yet nothing is familiar. It has all changed - again. How he hates that he is so encumbered by the whims of his enemy! But there, in the distance... fairy lights. The fae queen must be holding court in Pixie Hollow. In all his explorations of the ever-changing island, in all its iterations, Pixie Hollow has ever been at the centermost point of Neverland.

What luck! He can mark it on his map! And with the center of the island thusly charted, navigating the rest will prove a simple task. And what is more, his mortal enemy has oft been known to play for the fairies, who so adore him. Many a night, the sounds of his flute can be heard deep in the Neverwood, as he sits at the base of the great tree. Perchance the captain might come upon the unsuspecting boy, whom, distracted with serenading the fair folk, will fall easy prey to his steel.

The wicked pirate creeps to the edge of the grove which houses Pixie Hollow, but no musical tones reach his ear. Disappointment etches deep across his face, but as he peers through the brush, the golden light spilling from the great tree illuminates a familiar figure lying asleep in the glade. A boon has been granted him this night! Peter Pan, foolishly fast asleep in the middle of the wood with neither the Lost Boys nor the natives to aid him!

The captain approaches, a twig snapping underfoot. He pauses, holding his breath. The boy does not stir. As he draws closer, he can see the boy has aged yet again. His muscles are thicker and a five-o-clock shadow graces his otherwise youthful face. This is a phenomenon the captain has seen before, but never this far along. This is new. Still, it does not stop him. Hook advances, drawing his steel.

He hesitates. For lo! Behold, the maiden fair, wrapped in the arms of the young man who was once but a boy. See how soundly she sleeps! Never suspecting such danger lurks at the fringe of her dreams, threatening to plunge her headlong into a nightmare. To spill his enemy's blood over that beautiful creature – why, it would be nothing short of a sacrilege!

But what manner of creature is she? She is no aborigine, nor is she of fae, though she looks like a woodland nymph in her floral coronet and thin slip of forest green. Slowly, the captain extends his namesake, using it to push aside more foliage so he can get a better look. He leans towards her, tilting his head.

It is a young woman – feminine, delicate, innocent, lovely. Is this but another of Peter's 'mothers' whisked from her bed with promises of adventure in exchange for stories and maternal affection? Oh, but see how they hold one another in their arms! This is not the embrace of mother and son, but of young lovers!

It would be bad form to slay his enemy whilst he sleeps in a lover's embrace. And yet a jealousy burns within Hook, such that he hasn't felt in a long time. Hatred, yes. But jealousy? What had he to be jealous of before now? Peter Pan, the wretched boy, has attained that which the debonair captain has never secured for himself! Romance, love, the adoration of a starry-eyed young woman. In this moment, his hatred for his mortal enemy grows. But still, he does not strike. He would just as soon deface a great work of art as disturb the peaceful rest of so lovely an angel.

Silently, he sheaths his sword, promising himself that he will come back for Peter, _and_ for the girl. And then... _then_ he would kill the boy and steal his precious treasure. Yes, vengeance would be sweet, and the prize would be all the sweeter. The captain departs, leaving the lovers, for now, unmolested.

Peter Pan and Miandra Mercurial sleep soundly, none the wiser that they have barely escaped disaster, whilst Mab, the fairy queen herself, flies her tiny chariot over their heads, sprinkling the young lovers with golden dust, and bringing to them dreams of love. 


	27. Reckless Love

Mia heard a tune she'd never heard before, and yet it had a familiar feel. It reminded her of the rising sun, were it to be accompanied by a musical fanfare. It seemed to her a melody that could well be in the collective consciousness of every man, woman, and child; like something everyone had heard once before, only it was on the fringe of their earliest memories where they couldn't quite grasp it.

She opened her eyes. Golden sunlight fell in filtered streams through the canopy of leaves above. She was alone in the glade.

Where was Peter?

She glanced around and was shocked to find herself sitting in a bed of flowers that certainly hadn't been there when she'd fallen asleep. In fact, she was positively surrounded by flowers – lilies, bellflowers, poppies, daffodils, morning glories, violets, daisies and several others she couldn't name. Some of which shouldn't exist in such a climate, and others that would never be seen growing side by side anywhere else.

Mia rubbed her eyes and took another look around. She could still hear the melody playing above the treetops. It took her but a moment to realize the source.

Smiling, she tilted her head up towards the trees and called, "Good morning, Peter!"

The music stopped and Peter descended from the trees. He hovered in front of her, a mere silhouette against the bright morning sun.

"Good morning, Mia," he said cheerfully. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Well, it was a beautiful wake-up call," she told him, shielding her eyes and smiling sweetly. "Were you going to let me sleep all day?"

Peter shrugged. "I thought about waking you up, but I didn't really want to. You look like an angel when you sleep."

Mia thought _he_ was the one who looked like an angel right now with the halo of sunlight glowing behind him. But rather than tell him this, she decided to tease him a little.

"Oh, really?" she asked, her lips quirking. "So, now you're an authority on angels, are you?"

"Well, I've never really seen one before I met you. But I figure you must be one 'cause nothing could be so beautiful... 'cept an angel."

Mia snorted. "You're full of it."

Peter floated towards her in a downwards lean and cupped her cheeks. Before she could say anything else, he pressed his lips to hers. Mia's eyes fluttered as she kissed him back. His lips were irresistible. Furthermore, she was amazed and quite pleased to discover that last night hadn't just been some strange fluke or a trick of the fairy light making him amorous.

Even after he drew away from her, Mia's lips still tingled. She traced her fingers over them, blushing. Peter lowered to the ground in front of her and held out his hand. Mia took it and he pulled her to her feet. As they came face to face, she let out a gasp.

"What? What is it, Mia?"

At first, Mia said nothing. She was too enamored by his face. It looked much the same as ever, only now he looked even older. Not by a lot, but enough to have grown a five o'clock shadow overnight. He looked rugged and sexy, and yet this metamorphosis frightened her at first, only because he'd never aged quite this much before. If she had to guess, he may have surpassed her by a couple years now. Had this happened because of their kiss last night?

Peter was still gazing confusedly at her.

"P-Peter, h-have you seen your reflection this morning?"

He tilted his head inquisitively. "My reflection?"

Mia nodded.

"Well, I _was_ bathing in the creek earlier this morning..."

Mia blinked in surprise. " _You_... _bathing?_ " Beyond inadvertently getting clean by _playing_ in the water, she didn't think that word was even in Peter's and the Lost Boys' vocabulary.

"I think I _might've_ seen my reflection," he said, ignoring her previous comment and scratching his cheek thoughtfully.

Suddenly, he stopped. He brought both hands to his face and felt his cheeks.

"Oh..." he said. "I've done it again, haven't I?"

"If you mean you've aged a bit, then yes. You're... well, you're a bit... older."

Mia braced herself, fearing an explosion. How would he take this? Surely not well. From his comment, he seemed aware that he sometimes aged, but had he ever aged this much? Would he be okay with it or would he freak out?

"It's just as well," he said with a shrug. "I want to be as old as you are, maybe a year or two older so I can take care of you properly."

Mia was taken aback by his bold yet romantic claim on her. "I-I'm 19," she stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"Then I shall be 19 plus two!" he announced with a strange cry of finality.

"That's 21."

Peter laughed and took her by the hand. "C'mon. I got you a present."

"A-A present? Really?"

It was difficult trying to keep up with the swing of his thoughts and compulsions. She'd barely gotten over his most recent transformation. Peter was certainly taking things in stride.

"Yeah," he said. "Follow me."

Holding her hand, he led her through the forest and into a wide, open meadow. There in the middle, grazing among the lush green grass and wildflowers, was a young stallion. His coat was such a pure, snowy, unblemished white that he could almost have been a unicorn if it weren't for the lack of a horn.

"Oh, wow," Mia breathed. "He's beautiful! But Peter, surely this can't be my gift. I mean, he's wild, isn't he?"

"A bit, but I made friends with him this morning. He likes my flute, and I've been feeding him apples. He _really_ likes those. Here." He reached into the pouch on his hip and handed her an apple. Then, he put the flute to his lips and played a jaunty little tune.

The stallion lifted his head and let out a whinny. With a shake of his mane, he trotted towards them, his ears perked. He gave Peter an affectionate nudge, expressing his approval of his musical talents. Then, he turned his head to Mia, sniffing at the apple. Mia held her hand out flat, and the stallion eagerly munched on the apple. His lack of hesitation showed that Peter truly had befriended him.

Mia reached up and gently stroked his muzzle, murmuring, "Pretty boy. Such a pretty boy."

When the horse had finished his treat, he gave Mia a nuzzle. She embraced him in return, rubbing his neck and suppressing a girlish squeal.

"See?" said Peter, lowering his flute. "He likes you already."

"He's wonderful," said Mia, her eyes sparkling.

"So, it was a good present then?"

Mia hesitated. She wasn't so sure this horse was Peter's to give. After all, it was wild. Friendly, but untamed. She wasn't sure it could belong to her, no matter how badly she wanted it to. But Peter was waiting for an answer, and he seemed so pleased with himself. And really, couldn't this be a present? After all, Peter had clearly made the effort to befriend the horse so she could get near it. She was flattered that he remembered how much she liked them, for Peter wasn't one for remembering things.

Between the beautiful manner in which she'd awoken today, the flowers, the kiss, and now this, Mia figured more than a simple thank-you was in order. So, by way of answer, she wrapped her arms around Peter and gave him a long, deep kiss. When they parted, Peter grinned. He licked his lips with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Mmm... I should get you presents _all_ the time."

Mia laughed. "I wouldn't say no."

"You know," said Peter thoughtfully, "I'd bet he'd even let you ride him now. Come on!" He handed Mia two more apples and struck up another tune on his flute. They headed for the beach, the stallion trotting eagerly after them.

~~~

As morning dawned, the charismatic but no less diabolical captain of the Jolly Roger went to shore alone. He followed the path through the woods where he'd last seen the teenaged lovers. He didn't expect to find them there, but perhaps it would lead him to their current whereabouts. The girl—he just had to see her again. And he wanted to ascertain for certain the boy's development, for he still couldn't be sure that what he'd seen hadn't been a trick of the fairy light.

He arrived at the glade. The great tree looked bland and ordinary without the multitude of fairy lights glittering among its roots and branches. The inhabitants of Pixie Hollow must be sleeping off the after-effects of their nightlong revelry. Hook stepped into the clearing, gazing in astonishment at the thick bed of flowers which seemed to have magically sprouted overnight. It was here he had come upon the young lovers. This was where they had laid.

He picked a primrose and held it to his nose, breathing it in. He could smell its sweet fragrance, but there was something else. Something more. He was certain he could also smell... _her_. The girl. Grinning to himself, he walked stealthily through the woods, quite the curious sight with his cutlass at his hip, a deadly steel hook where his right hand should be and a primrose in his left.

He heard voices and followed them to the edge of the wood. There, he saw them. Pan and the girl. In their company was a wild stallion. The girl was coaxing him with apples and Pan was playing his flute – like the Pied Piper himself, leading horses and naïve young girls into a world of childish hedonism. Pan lifted the girl and set her astride the stallion, who took off down the beach at a gentle canter.

For a moment Hook watched, mesmerized. Was there anything more sensual than a woman on horseback, especially one dressed such as she, in her thin yellow slip of a dress, her hair blowing in the breeze and the sun shining on her bare thighs? But the tranquil scene came to a swift end as the horse broke into an uncontrolled gallop, headed for the water. The girl leaned forward, clutching it tightly around the neck. Her cries of alarm reached his ears.

The idiot boy! What was he thinking, putting that girl on a wild beast? The captain tensed, preparing himself, quite unthinkingly, to leap from the brush and run to her aid. But before Hook could act, the horse reared up at the water's edge, pawing at the surf, and the girl slipped backwards only to fall into the arms of the boy, who literally swooped in at the nick of time.

Hook breathed a sigh of relief. Surely now the girl would be cross. Perhaps she'd abandon Pan on the beach and come this way... right into the captain's waiting arms. The wicked pirate grinned, reveling in his fantasy. But it was merely that – a fantasy. Because now she was laughing in the boy's arms, and the wretched boy joined her. Then, hand in hand, they ran to the water and dove into the waves. They emerged, still laughing. Must they laugh so incessantly? The boy whipped back his hair, which had grown to shoulder length during the night, and now Hook was certain. Pan had aged... again! But now, he had to be nearly 20! A young man, if ever he'd seen one!

_Impossible,_ he thought.

Never had Pan aged so far. It defied the boy's personal ideology! It went against everything Peter Pan stood for! How was this happening? Was it the girl? What sort of power did she have that she could elicit such a transformation in him? But clearly the boy's childlike personality remained as he frolicked with the girl, laughing, splashing, embracing... kissing.

Scowling, Hook clenched his fist, squishing the flower and letting it fall to pieces on the ground at his feet. He turned his back on the scene and stalked angrily through the forest, back to his ship. There was no way he could strike now, not while they were together. He would have to wait, bide his time. But would those two _ever_ be apart? He'd much prefer to deal with each of them separately, but he might not have a choice. He would wait. Watch. He would be patient. But if it came down to it, by hook or crook, he would tear them apart and kill Peter Pan once and for all.

~~~

The following two days were a whirlwind of youthful pleasures and wanton abandon. In the early mornings, Mia and Peter watched the sunrise together and swam in the ocean until noon; though they made certain to restrict their swimming to the western side of the island. This was, perhaps, the chief reason why they'd yet to discover Hook's return – the Jolly Roger made berth not far from Mermaid Lagoon, a location they exclusively avoided, as they didn't wish to incite the mermaids' jealousy. And as of late, the covetous creatures would certainly have had plenty to be jealous of.

Peter and Mia were inseparable in more ways than one. For them, it was a time of unadulterated bliss, a time of giving into the joys of being young, while fancying themselves old enough to chart new territory, and submitting to teenage hormones. It was a time of secret glances and stolen kisses by moonlight, of learning their way around one another's minds and bodies. During the day, Mia and Peter played games with the Lost Boys while taking every opportunity to sneak off and spend time alone. In the evenings, Mia regaled her six little brothers with more exciting tales from her own imagination. Then, when the youngsters had fallen asleep, she and Peter slipped into the night and stayed out long past the witching hour.

The morning of what was, unbeknownst to Mia, to be her last day on the island started out like any other. Peter had played his flute, Mia snuggling against him, as they watched the sunrise. Then they frolicked in the ocean, body surfing on the waves and splashing and chasing one another through the sparkling water, never the wiser that they were being watched.

Perched on a rocky ridge high above the beach, the villainous pirate, Captain Jas. Hook, sat crouched amidst the shrubbery, peering through a spyglass at the teenage lovers below. This time, he wasn't alone. His loyal, if not absent-minded, bosun sat crouched beside him.

"Smee," said Hook, speaking through clenched teeth as he lowered his spyglass. "Is there anything more disgusting than teenagers?"

Mr. Smee tilted his head thoughtfully. "I don't believe I've ever met any, Cap'n."

Hook rolled his eyes. "Indeed, I presume you were never one yourself," he intoned sarcastically.

"Don't seem likely, does it, Cap'n?"

With another roll of his eyes, Hook returned his gaze to the lovers below. A strong wave had just carried the teens, tumbling, onto the beach, to where the tide met the shore. The girl lay on her back, her hair and yellow dress splayed out across the sand. Peter leaned over her. The wave had pulled his lengthening hair out of its messy ponytail so it now hung loose and wild around his shoulders. Mia reached up and tugged playfully at his lengthening locks.

"What are going to do about this, Peter?" she murmured.

"I don't know," said Peter, brushing it away from his face. "I kinda like it. Makes me look even _more_ imposing, I think. What _I_ wanna know," he said, wearing a mischievous smile as he brought his face closer to hers, "is what we're gonna do about _this._ "

He pressed his lips to hers.

Hook watched with increasing annoyance as the boy's hand slid up along the girl's thigh, pushing her wet dress higher up her hip. Their lips opened and closed hungrily against one another, their passionate embrace as strong and fierce as the waves that crashed around them.

"Look at them," he growled disgustedly. "Going at it like they invented the art of passion. Oh, I _do_ hate teenagers, perhaps even more than I hate children. This is nauseating!" He handed off the spyglass to Smee, who held it to his eye.

"Well, they are lookin' mighty adorable together, Cap'n."

Hook glared at his bosun. "Smee, it takes every ounce of my will power not to lob you straight over this ledge," he growled.

"Oh. Much obliged, Cap'n."

The captain snatched the spyglass back and looked through it again. Pan rolled onto his back, pulling the girl atop him. His fingers plunged into her long, wet hair as he kissed her with increasing fervor.

"It is astounding," said Hook. "This mysterious young woman has somehow introduced 'the boy who would never grow up' to the concept of constantly submitting to teenage hormones, leaving me with no opening to enact a devious scheme to attack my hated adversary. Thus, I'm reduced to the deplorable act of voyeurism. It is beneath me."

"Oh, most assuredly, Cap'n," Smee agreed.

Hook smacked him upside the head with an open palm.

"Yowch!"

"Think about what you're agreeing with before speaking, Smee!"

"Sorry, Cap'n," said the bosun, wincing and rubbing the back of his head.

The girl was on her back again, gazing up at Pan with a tilted head and sweet, mocking smile. Like a magnet, she drew the boy to her. He lowered himself to her, trailing his lips along the smooth slope of her neck and shoulder.

"That girl," Hook marveled softly, "She's like a seductress. Pan can do nothing to resist her wiles."

"Oh yes. Can't take yer eyes offa her, can you, Cap'n?" said Smee, squinting out over the beach with his hand over his brow.

Indeed, he could not. Hook's gazed was fixated on the girl as she wrapped her arms around Pan, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Through the spyglass, Hook saw her lips move silently, but he swore he could almost hear her murmuring the wretched boy's name.

"I want her," Hook muttered.

Glancing at the captain, Smee reached into his belt and pulled out the jagged weapon which he affectionately referred to as 'Johnny Corkscrew.' He climbed to his feet, but Hook quickly grabbed him and yanked him back down.

"What are you doing, fool?"

Confused, Smee gestured with Johnny Corkscrew in the direction of the teens. "I was gonna go get the girl, Cap'n. Just like ya' said."

"Not right now, you dunderhead," Hook hissed at his dimwitted bosun. "We have to make a plan first!"

His eyes swept out to the beach, lingering on Pan and the girl once more.

"I will have her... I just need to think of how to get her."

They watched the young lovers a while longer before Hook rose to his feet and stalked off in the opposite direction. He'd seen enough. Smee scrambled to his feet and quickly followed.

"What's wrong, Cap'n? Ain't we gonna wait around and—"

"No," said Hook. "We're not going to sit around on this ledge ogling that girl all day, Smee. We need a plan. We have to wait for the opportune moment to strike. But it is not Pan that I want. Oh yes, he'll come in time," he added at Smee's questioning glance. "But I want that girl. When the moment finally arises, when she and Pan are finally apart... we will have our prey."

As the pirates departed, another pair of eyes lingered on Peter and Mia from the opposite end of the beach. Just at the fringe, where the forest met the beach, Tinker Bell peered out from behind a leaf, high in the trees above. Her blue eyes narrowed in fury as she watched her precious Peter kissing the awful girl he'd brought from Cerenopia.

Fairies were so tiny, they often only had room for one emotion at a time. And right now, jealousy blazed like a wildfire inside the little pixie, so much that her body grew red-hot and she burned a hole right through the leaf behind which she was hidden. Consumed by this singular emotion, Tinker Bell's better sense of judgement slipped by the wayside, and already she was formulating a plan of her own to get rid of that no-good storyteller.

~~~

As the afternoon sun burned high overhead, Mia and Peter took shelter in the shade of a willow tree. Peter lay on the lush grass with a long green blade sticking out of the corner of his mouth, lightly dozing. Mia leaned against the trunk of the tree with her sketchbook and pencil. Every so often, she glanced up at her subject before looking back down at her paper and scratching away at it with a soft smile on her face. When she was finished, she cleared her throat and Peter opened his eyes.

"Finished already?" he asked, rising onto his elbows.

"What do you mean already? It took me an hour."

"Oh. I must have dozed off."

Never before would Mia have imagined Peter could remain so still in the middle of the day that he'd actually fall asleep. Normally, he was like a child on a constant sugar high. Perhaps he was slowly maturing in mind as well as body.

"Well, do you want to see it?"

Peter nodded, taking the sketchbook from her hand.

"Hey, who's this handsome devil?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Someone who could afford to be humbler, that's for sure."

Grinning, Peter handed it back to her. "Who said I was complimenting myself? I may have been complimenting the drawing."

"Because I know you too well, Peter Pan."

Laughing, Peter lay back down, placing his head in Mia's lap. "It _is_ a good drawing, Mia."

"Thanks."

Peter closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. "I like this. Just relaxing and doing nothing, you know?"

"What about adventure?" she asked, her lips quirking.

"Adventure's always just around the corner," Peter replied, his eyes still closed. "It'll find me soon enough."

Smiling, Mia stroked his hair. "Look at you," she said. "You sure are spoiled."

Peter opened his eyes, gazing up at her with those beautiful seafoam greens that always took her breath away.

"Mmm... Spoil me more." He reached up, bringing his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, his lips laying claim to hers.

Mia placed her hands on his cheeks. His kisses were a little rougher now that he'd grown that five o'clock shadow, which, curiously, never seemed to grow beyond that. Perhaps it was through will alone that his facial hair wouldn't grow. After all, she couldn't imagine Peter taking the time to shave. But in her opinion, that sandpapery roughness _was_ rather sexy.

Peter rolled Mia onto her back and planted her onto the grass beneath him. His eyes searched hers questioningly. Mia gazed up at him, confused and curious by the look he was giving her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Mia, I—"

"Peter! Mia!"

The Lost Boys were running down a grassy hill in their direction.

Peter leapt to his feet, leaving Mia lying on the grass, gaping breathlessly up at him and feeling as though she'd been robbed of something wonderful.

"What?" he said. "What is it?"

"Hook's back!"

~~~

Peter, Mia, and the Lost Boys stood on a rocky outcropping of a cliff overlooking Mermaid Lagoon. In the distance, a couple kilometers southeast of the lagoon, sat the Jolly Roger, a square-rigged, two-masted brig with 18 carronades and two long guns. Its hull was of polished black oak with gold trim. The sails were so large, they could have passed for clouds against the blue horizon.

Peter stood with his hands on his hips and nodded resolutely. "Yep, it's Hook all right."

The Lost Boys all spoke at once in mixed tones of excitement and nervousness. Peter drew his sword.

"Whatdya' say we give the ol' codfish a proper welcome home?" he asked, flashing his teeth mischievously.

The Lost Boys gave a resounding cheer.

"How about it, Mia?" asked Peter, glancing over his shoulder. "Mia?"

Mia had backed up several paces and was gazing at the ship with a horrified expression.

"What's the matter, Mia? Are you scared? You don't have to come if you don't want to."

Mia shook her head. Suddenly, it was all coming back to her.

_'It would be well for you to convince Peter to return you to Cerenopia before Hook returns... and before you forget.'_

Tiger Lily was right. She _had_ forgotten. And now... Hook had returned. Hook was one of the Dark Ones, and the Dark Ones were after her. They had once wanted her dead. That may or may not have changed, if the way Gaston had dealt with her was any indication. Either way, she was in grave danger. She had to return. She had to go back to Cerenopia, to her father, before it was too late.

"It's okay, Mia, really," said Peter, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to come. I'll deal with Hook myself."

"N-No, wait!"

"What is it?"

"Peter, I... I want to tell you a story."

" _Now?"_ he asked, bewildered.

"It's important," she insisted.

Peter glanced over his shoulder towards the ocean, gazing longingly at the ship. He was just itching to cross blades with Hook. With a sigh, he turned back to Mia and offered her a soft smile.

"Well, all right," he said. "Since it's important."

The Lost Boys cheered excitedly. A story _and_ the chance to antagonize Hook? This was, in their estimation, a perfect day. Mia glanced at them apologetically, before turning her hazel eyes on Peter.

" _Just_ you," she said.

The Lost Boys began to whine, but Peter quickly shushed them.

"You heard her, lads. This is a story just for me. Go down to the lagoon and wait for me there, but stay out of range of Hook's ship, all right?"

Grumbling, the boys descended the hill, looking none too happy about this turn of events. Tootles paused and gazed up at Mia.

"Will you tell _us_ the story tonight, Mia?"

Mia forced herself to smile. It was difficult, for she had a feeling that what she said next might very well be a lie.

"I'll do my best," she said in a voice that was slightly tremulous.

Apparently, this was good enough for Tootles, who gave her a wide, toothy smile before hurrying after the other boys. Swallowing the lump of guilt which had risen in her throat, and threatened to choke her, Mia took Peter's arm and led him away from the edge of the cliff. She didn't want to be within sight of the Jolly Roger; she didn't want to take any chances. Mia would feel a lot better if she didn't have to look at the thing.

Peter followed without question. When Mia deemed them a safe distance from pirate eyes, she took a seat on a large rock beneath a twisted old tree. She gazed out across the expansive island which lay below her. They had quite the view from atop this ridge, but Mia's mind seemed to have gone elsewhere. The ocean breeze lifted her hair, blowing it gently around her face.

"Peter, I want to tell you a _true_ story. It's about a girl with two names. One, Mia Baxter, and the other Miandra Mercurial."

"Am I in this story?"

Mia sighed. "Yes, a bit... towards the end. Anyway, just listen, okay?"

With her eyes out to sea, she told him her story; the story of the adopted Mia Baxter who was really Miandra Mercurial; of her life on Earth, which was suddenly disrupted by the arrival of Gaston and Maleficent's goons; of how she'd met her biological father, who was none other than The Dreamfinder, Blair Mercurial; and of her 'spark' and that she'd become a target of The Dark Ones. When she finished, she turned her gaze to Peter, her eyes shimmering with trepidation.

"Do you understand what I've told you, Peter?"

"I understand, Mia," he said with a gravity she'd previously not thought him capable of. "Of course I do. I could see it the moment I first laid eyes on you. Your spark is incredible."

Mia was blown away. Suddenly, he was so serious and straightforward. That wasn't like Peter at all. Furthermore, she was surprised by his assertion that he could see her spark.

"The Dreamfinder is a very noble man," he said. "If there's any grownups I actually respect, it's him and Yensid. I didn't realize you were the Dreamfinder's daughter. But I guess I should have. No one has ever had a spark like his... until I met you."

He stood up and turned his gaze out to sea in the direction of the lagoon, as though staring down Hook's ship with a silent challenge.

"I won't let them have you," he told her. "Not Hook... Not _any_ of the Dark Ones."

Mia was speechless. This had to be the second most serious conversation she and Peter had ever held. Underneath his childish and whimsical ways, Peter _did_ possess a higher intellect and a serious side. Moreover, his determination to protect her awakened the little girl inside of her, the one who'd grown up reading stories of pretty young maidens and the heroes who sought to protect them from the forces which threatened to harm them. In that moment, her affection for Peter grew, which only made what she had to say even harder. Shakily, Mia rose to her feet.

"Peter... I know you would do everything in your power to protect me, but think about it. Even if you could protect me from Hook—"

"But you're not as defenseless as you think either, Mia!" Peter quickly interjected, as though he knew and feared where she was going with this. "You're a dreamfinder! You can imagine stuff into being, just like your dad!"

"Uh, well, you see," she said rubbing the back of her neck and averting her gaze, "Blair – that is, my father – _did_ say that one day I _could_ do stuff like that, but I can't yet. I've never done anything like that before. I suspect it's going to take a lot of practice."

"What are you talking about? You can _so_ do that! I've watched you do it!"

Mia gave him a look of utter bewilderment.

"Your dresses, Mia. You pop them into being while you sleep."

"What? N-No way. That can't be right. Are you... are you sure?"

Peter nodded.

"I didn't realize it was me," she said amazedly. "I thought maybe it was some weird Neverland magic or that you were somehow getting them for me."

"No, it was definitely you. I watched it happen the first night. Your spark began to shimmer and then there was a popping sound before... poof! The dress appeared. You did it, just like the Dreamfinder does. Though, Neverland probably helped you a little. After all, your spark is the reason Neverland immediately took a shine to you. Couldn't you feel it?"

Mia shook her head.

"It reacted to your spark!" Peter proclaimed, taking both her hands in his . "Neverland wants to be with you as much as I do! That's why flowers bloomed in the grove where we slept after we kissed. Didn't you know?"

"No," said Mia wonderingly. "I thought you put them there."

"I didn't," he said earnestly.

"Do you think I could do it again? The thing with the dresses, I mean."

"Why not?" said Peter. "You already did it a few times before. Of course, you could do it again! I know you can!"

Mia closed her eyes, imagining a simple but lovely dress, not so unlike the one she now wore, but a turquoise blue, like Neverland's sea. She even clenched her fists at her sides and took her bottom lip between her teeth, scrunching her face in effort. But when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed. She tried once more, but was again unsuccessful. With a sigh, she plopped down onto the rock and gazed forlornly up at Peter.

"I don't understand. If what you say is true, why can't I do it now? How come I can only do it in my sleep? And why wasn't I ever able to do it back in Cerenopia?"

"I don't know," said Peter. "Maybe you're not doing it right. I didn't even see anything in your spark. Try doing it the way you do it when you're asleep."

"Peter, that doesn't even make any sense! How can I possibly know how to do it if I only do it in my sleep? Look," she said with a sigh, "We're getting off topic. Or maybe not. Maybe this is a perfect demonstration of how vulnerable I am." She lifted her gaze to him, her expression grim. "Peter, I need to ask something of you. Something very important. And you're not going to like it."

"No!" he cried. "Please don't say it, Mia! Please!" There was a look of desperation on his face as he clutched at her hands and held them against his chest. "Please," he begged. "I don't want you to leave! I told you I'd protect you, didn't I? Don't you believe me? You're my... my... Well, you're mine, Mia!" he insisted, as though he didn't quite know the proper word. "And I'll be yours! Yours and only yours! I've never offered that to anyone before you!"

"I understand what you've offered me, and I want you, too," said Mia. "Really, I do. And I'm glad you want me. But think of my father, Peter. The Dreamfinder. You said you respected him. Think of how worried he must be!"

"But—"

"And I'm in danger here, Peter!"

"No harm will befall you, Mia! I'm here to protect you! I won't let Hook—"

"But what about the other Dark Ones?"

"I'll protect you from them, too!"

"But can you, Peter? Can you really?"

"Of course I—"

Mia placed a finger to his lips, halting him in mid-speech.

"Please, Peter," she said softly. "I know you're a wonderful, magical, formidable boy. But please put aside all that childlike arrogance for one moment, _just for one moment_ , and think really hard and answer honestly. If Hook were to find out who I was, and if he were to call for reinforcements, if the other Dark Ones came for me, if _Maleficent_ came..." Peter visibly winced at the name. "Could you, in all honesty, say beyond a shadow of a doubt that you could protect me from them? _All_ of them?"

Peter lowered his gaze. He was silent for a long time.

"No. I can't answer that with any certainty, Mia."

The voice with which he spoke was not a teenager's, but the ragged voice of a grown man, tired and plagued by memories of pain, violence, and loss.

Mia looked at him, half in relief and half in sorrow. "Thank you for being honest, Peter."

"But they might not come," he said, trying to convince himself as much as her. "If Hook doesn't find out who you really are, he can't tell the other Dark Ones, and they won't come!"

"Is that a chance you're willing to take, though?" asked Mia tremulously. "This could be a life or death situation for me. Do you really want to risk it?"

"No," he said finally. "Of course not. I don't want anything to happen to you. Not ever."

He turned away from her and gazed off into the distance, far beyond the blue horizon line.

"It's not fair," he murmured, the wind ruffling his hair. "I finally find someone who wants me. Someone who I feel so strongly about... And she's going to leave. Just like the others."

"No, Peter!"

Mia wrapped her arms around him from behind and rested her cheek on the back of his shoulder.

"Please," she begged, tears in her eyes. "Don't lump me in like that. I don't want to leave. You understand that, don't you? I mean, I _do_ want to see my father and my friends on Cerenopia again, and I do think it's best that I return. But that doesn't mean I wantto leave you. But I have to. There's a difference. Don't you see?" She squeezed him tighter and buried her face into his shoulder blade. "Oh, Peter... If only there was an easier way to find Neverland, I could come to visit you whenever Hook's off raiding and pillaging other islands, or I could come with my father now and again and stay for a little while and—"

"That's it!" Peter exclaimed, whirling around to face her.

"Wh-What's it?" she stammered.

In lieu of an answer, he lifted her into his arms and shot into the air, soaring over the rocky terrain and landing on the sand where the beach met the forest. Taking her by the hand, he pulled her into the forest, sprinting like a deer through the woods. Mia could hardly ask him what this was all about; it was all she could do just to keep up with him. When they finally arrived at the hideout, Peter tugged her down the slide made of bark and root, and they landed at the bottom.

Mia staggered to her feet, brushing off her dress. "Peter, what's going on? Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

"Mia," he said seriously, taking her by the shoulders. "Listen, I'm going to take you home. I promise you. But there's something I gotta do first, okay?"

"Peter, I don't understand. I—"

"No time. Just please believe me when I say I _will_ take you home. I've just got to do this one thing. I'll explain later. Trust me, okay? Please?" Those green eyes beseeched her.

"All right," she said. "I trust you."

Peter gave a resolute nod and strode to the corner of the hideout, taking his full-length sword from its resting place and attaching it to his hip. His dagger, he handed to Mia.

"Here," he said. "Keep this just in case."

"J-Just in case? Peter, you're scaring me. You're not going to confront Hook, are you?"

"No, Mia. Not right now."

And in her opinion, he'd never seemed more grown up.

"But now that I know what I know, I'm not taking any chances." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. His hand caressed her cheek. "Stay here until I get back. Don't leave. Don't come out for anything. Okay?"

"O-Okay," she stammered.

Peter's hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her with an urgent sort of passion, like he feared it might be the very last time. Then, finally, as though it took every ounce of strength he possessed, he tore his lips from hers.

"Wait for me," he said.

"I-I will," Mia assured him breathlessly. 

"I'll be back for you!" he called as he flew up through the hollow tree above and disappeared.

~~~

Peter flew over the lagoon and called down to the Lost Boys who were gathered there.

"Meet me at Tiger Lily's village!" he called.

"What about Hook?" they shouted back.

"Not now! Just do as I say!"

Peter soared over Neverland's mountains, flying so fast he tore holes through the clouds which hovered over the peaks. Time was of the essence. Depending on what he learned, he may have a long task ahead of him, and he mustn't keep Mia waiting, but he also mustn't let her leave until he found that which he sought. He flew to the northwestern-most point of the island and descended into the center of the native village.

"Tiger Lily!" he called desperately.

The native princess stepped out of the large teepee at the center of the village. Her deep brown eyes widened at the sight of the young man who stood before her. Her gaze swept him appraisingly. There was no doubt as to who this was, but the metamorphosis was extraordinary.

"Peter?"

He took a step towards her.

"Lily, I need you to tell me everything you know about The Eye of Neverland."


	28. Hooked

Mia paced the hideout anxiously. Peter hadn't told her what he was doing. He said there wasn't any time. Although he seemed confident in what he was doing, and although she did trust that he would return to take her home, his sudden mysteriousness worried her. What could it be that was so incredibly important?

With the way he told her to stay in the hideout and not to emerge, and giving her his dagger, it was clear he understood the danger posed to her. So what was it that he had to do first? There'd been a sense of urgency to his actions. He said he wasn't going to confront Hook, but he'd been armed nonetheless, and his whole demeanor had been tense, as though ready for some sort of trial or tribulation.

Pacing and fretting wasn't doing her any good. She had to take her mind off things until Peter returned. Mia grabbed her sketchbook and took a seat on one of the bunks. She leaned against the earthen wall and began to sketch aimlessly. This was a suitable distraction until the sound of panicked chimes resounded from within the underground tunnel and a golden orb darted wildly into the hideout. Mia gasped as Tinker Bell bounced off the walls and hurled towards her.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, holding her sketchbook in front of her face to block a potential blow. But no blow fell. Instead, Tinker Bell tugged energetically on her hair.

"Ow, ow! Whoa, whoa! What are you doing? Quit it!"

Perhaps the short-tempered fairy had learned of the romantic rendezvous between Mia and Peter and was now here to assault her. However, one look at the fairy up close and Mia realized it was not anger in her features, but panic.

"What is it?" she asked.

Tinker Bell gave an emphatic chime.

"Is it Peter?"

Tinker Bell nodded.

Mia felt her heart sink. "Is he in trouble?"

Tinker Bell nodded again and tugged on Mia's hair.

"Okay, I'm coming," she said, setting aside her sketchbook and leaping to her feet. "Show me the way!"

Tinker Bell led Mia through the woods and out to the beach where she and Peter had spent the past two days engaged in playful, romantic escapades. But there was no sign of Peter now.

"Where is he, Tink?"

Tinker Bell darted towards the rocky ridge which overlooked the lagoon on one side and the western beach on the other.

"Up there?" she asked.

Tinker Bell nodded and shot upwards. Mia hurried behind.

"TINK!" she called. "Can you dust me so I can follow you up?"

There was no response. No tinkling chimes, nor any sign of the little pixie at all. Climbing would be no easy task, but if Peter was in trouble...

Setting her jaw determinedly, Mia used the outcroppings and craggy footholds to scale up the ridge. She wished Tinker Bell had the foresight to cover her with a little pixie dust to make this easier. The fairy had been in such a hurry to get to Peter, and now there was so sign of her. Perhaps an ill fate had befallen her as well.

As Mia climbed, she did not pause to consider the danger she might be walking into when she reached the top. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Peter was in trouble, and she must do everything in her power to help him.

Finally, she hauled herself over the side of the ridge, panting and sweating. Shakily, she rose to her feet and looked around. This was the same ridge that she, Peter, and the Lost Boys had stood on almost an hour ago. On one side of the ridge was the western beach. On the other was Mermaid Lagoon and the Jolly Roger. Mia knew upon which side she preferred to stand, but she also feared she knew which side Peter would have been most likely to have encountered trouble. Nervously, she approached the side which overhung the lagoon and faced the Jolly Roger. There was still no sign of Peter, or Tinker Bell for that matter.

"Tinker Bell?" Mia called. "Where are you? What is it you're trying to show me? Are you trying to tell me that Peter was captured by Hook?"

There was no reply as Mia drew closer to the edge.

_But Peter told me he wasn't going to confront Hook._

Could he have lied?

Meanwhile, Tinker Bell lie in wait, holding the end of a thick, hairy vine. One end of the vine was tied around a knobby old tree near the ledge. The rest of it lay innocuously across the ground. The mischievous fairy stood at the other end. As Mia stepped onto the outcropping of rock for a better look, Tinker Bell lifted the loose end of the vine and pulled it taut. With a cry, Mia tripped over the vine and fell headlong over the ledge.

Tinker Bell let out a shrill chime of triumph. She flew to the edge of the cliff and watched delightedly as Mia plummeted to the lagoon below. It all happened so quickly that Mia just barely had time to hold her breath before plunging into the water, miraculously avoiding the sharp rocks which jutted out below. She was disoriented beyond belief, but the important thing was she was alive and she could swim. Kicking her legs, Mia attempted to ascend to the surface, but something stopped her - a hand on her ankle.

Glancing down, Mia spotted the culprit. It was a mermaid. The mermaid in question would have been quite beautiful if it weren't for the feral snarl on her face as her fingers dug painfully into Mia's ankle. Mia tried to kick her off, but her grip was too strong, and soon others were coming to aid in the assault. Three other mermaids surrounded Mia. Two grabbed her arms, and another grabbed her other ankle. The last one came face to face with her. Glaring furiously, the mermaid seized the necklace Peter had given her and ripped it off Mia's neck. Mia watched as it fell to pieces and sunk into the dark depths below. She tried to struggle, but the four mermaids combined were too much for her as they dragged her deeper into the water.

_NO! PETER, HELP!_

But it was no use. Peter was long gone, and no one could hear her underwater. She was going to die. And the worst part was... Peter, the Lost Boys, her father and everyone else... none of them would know what had happened to her.

Mia could no longer hold her breath. Water filled her burning lungs and her eyes rolled back in her head. The dark, murky waters consumed her as death welcomed her into its cold embrace.

~~~

Mia heard a woman singing. It was the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard. Perhaps it was an angel serenading her on her way to the pearly gates. But when Mia opened her eyes, it was not the gates to the afterlife which greeted her, but a pair of aqua marine eyes set in a kind, beautiful face, framed by a mane of luxurious red hair. Although the sun shone behind the woman's head like a halo and she was pretty enough to be one, this was no angel. In fact, Mia knew this person, but her waterlogged mind struggled to grasp the memory.

Seeing that Mia had regained consciousness, the woman smiled and gently trailed her fingers through Mia's wet locks.

"Are you all right?" she asked in a sweet, mellifluous voice.

Mia opened her mouth to speak, but instead rolled onto her side and retched up a ton of seawater. Not a grand first impression, but the woman didn't seem put off by it. Instead, she continued to stroke Mia's hair comfortingly until Mia finished expelling the watery contents of her lungs. As Mia straightened up, she appraised the woman who'd rescued her and realized she was really only a woman from the waist-up.

"Y-You're... You're Ariel!" she exclaimed hoarsely.

The mermaid smiled and tilted her head curiously. "I am, yes. But who are you? Have we met?"

"N-No. But you may know my father, Blair Mercurial. He's the Dream-"

"Professor Mercurial? Then it _is_ you! You _are_ Miandra! I had hoped, but couldn't be certain!"

Ariel threw her arms around Mia, pulling her into a warm, wet embrace. Surprised and a little embarrassed, Mia hugged her back. She was hugging Ariel! The mermaid took Mia by the shoulders and held her at arms' length to have a better look at her.

"We've been searching everywhere for you, Miandra! Oh, is it so wonderful to see you! You've grown so much! You look so much like your mother! Oh, but you are definitely your father's daughter! I can tell."

"Oh. Um, thanks," said Mia bashfully. She glanced around. She was on the shore near the lagoon. Ariel was sitting on her knees, or at least what would have been her knees, had she any. Instead, she was in mermaid form, with her long, scaly green tail tucked prettily beneath her.

"Did you rescue me?"

"Yes," said Ariel, her expression darkening. "And just in time, too. I apologize for my cousins' behavior." She shot a glare at the mermaids draped on the rocks of the lagoon who, in turn, glared back at her. "They are very prejudiced against humans... girls, in particular."

"Wait... your cousins?"

"Yes," said Ariel, letting out an aggrieved sigh. "A long time ago, when I was just a young mermaid, there was a huge family skirmish. My cousins were fond of human sailors. Their favorite pastime was swimming to the surface and seducing them with song, often resulting in disastrous consequences. Many crashed their ships against the rocks in shallow waters."

"Oh, you mean they were like Sirens?"

"That was what the sailors called them. My cousins didn't mean any real harm. It was just an unfortunate side effect, but the sailors lost all sense of judgement when they heard the mermaids' song. At the time, my father wanted nothing to do with the surface world. He feared my cousins' antics would draw too much attention to us, and worse, incite the humans' ire for damages and lost lives. He forbade them from continuing their behavior, but they refused to listen. Many ships crashed. Many men drowned. So, my father banished my cousins and they came here to Neverland and formed their own commune."

"Oh," said Mia. "I never would have guessed _these_ mermaids were related to... Well, to you and your people."

"I'm not surprised. Since coming to Neverland, they've changed a lot. Honestly, they've gotten worse. They no longer bother sailors, but they've become such jealous, vain little creatures, seeking to antagonize other females not of their species. Human girls, especially. The prettier they are, the more eager they are to drown them. I hear they're fiercely territorial when it comes to Peter Pan."

Mia averted her gaze and rubbed at her throat which was still raw, both from coughing up water as well as from having the necklace Peter gave her torn off her neck.

"Yeah, I noticed. Thanks for saving me. I was certain I was going to die."

"Impeccable timing on my part, I suppose," said Ariel with a smile.

"So, you came to visit your cousins? Is that it?"

Ariel lifted an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? Miandra, don't be silly. I came here looking for you."

"For... For me?" asked Mia. "Me specifically?"

"Of course! It's like I said, everyone's searching for you! Princess Cindy sent out an emergency request to Rosebriar and Vandsgaard to help find you and bring you home. All three kingdoms have been on the lookout for Neverland."

"Oh! I should've known Dad and Cindy would try everything they could to find me," said Mia, smiling in relief. "I should've had more faith in them." However, her smile turned to a frown as she remembered why she hadn't expected a rescue. "But wait...Dad told me Neverland is barely navigable. That there's never a surefire way of locating it as it moves around, and that people mostly stumble upon it by accident."

"Well," said Ariel with a smile, "I suppose that's what everyone was hoping for... a happy accident."

"But how is that _you're_ here? How'd _you_ find it?"

"Well, you see, Neverland gives off a sort of... energy, for lack of a better word. I don't know if it's the island's natural magic, or if it's pixie dust in the water or what it could be for certain, but its energy can be felt in the currents."

"In the currents?"

Ariel nodded. "Whenever Neverland comes within certain proximity to Atlantica, my people can feel its slipstream."

"Oh," said Mia. "Then why don't we all use that to track-" But she trailed off because Ariel was shaking her head.

"It can only be felt underwater when it comes within a certain radius of Atlantica. That doesn't happen often. But when it does, my people are able to find it. The fact I was able to find you was one of those happy accidents I was talking about. I was visiting my father when I felt it. I knew Neverland had come close enough to Atlantica that I could find my way there by following the currents. And so... here I am."

"Wow. That's fascinating, but not very promising, is it? I mean, if Neverland moves again..."

"Which is why I must make haste, Miandra," said Ariel, gazing back out to sea. "I can feel Neverland's current. So long as it stays where it is now, I can pass its location on to Eric and he can come and find you. Then, we'll return you to your father, safe and sound." She turned back to Mia and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "Just hold on a little longer, Miandra. Help is coming. In the meantime, stay away from the lagoon." Her expression turned grave. "And from Hook."

With a final farewell, Ariel dove into the water.

Mia scrambled to her feet and called out to her. "W-Wait a minute! Ariel!"

But with a single flip of her tail fin, Ariel was gone.

Mia sighed. She was relieved to know people were out searching for her, and even more relieved that Ariel had located Neverland and could pass on the information to Eric and, hopefully, to Mia's father to let him know she was all right. But Peter had already promised to take her home himself. And besides that, there was apparently something very important he had to do first. Mia still didn't know what it was, but she didn't want to be picked up and taken away before Peter returned and without a proper goodbye to him. He'd be devastated.

_But depending on where Eric's navy is located currently, it could take a while,_ she thought. _Surely Peter will be back by then._

She no longer feared Peter was in danger. She knew now that it had all been a fabrication by Tinker Bell to get her into trouble, possibly killed. This knowledge and the memory of her frightening near-death experience ignited a fire within Mia. She rose to her feet, tossed back her long, wet hair, and strode angrily across the beach and into the woods, not pausing even once to catch her breath until she'd reached Peter's hideout. So angry was she, that she never noticed the strange phenomenon taking place; she had magically dried herself from head to foot and was now wearing a brand-new dress, a dainty shift of sky blue adorned with Baby's Breath and Forget-Me-Nots.

As Mia entered the hideout, she strode to the knothole which served as Tinker Bell's personal apartment and yanked back the skeleton leaf curtain. The pixie let out a shrill scream at the sight of her.

"Surprise," said Mia dryly, snatching Tinker Bell out of her apartment. Holding the fairy in her fist, Mia brought her close to her face. "Listen, you tiny little..."

She trailed off. She could not say what she really wanted to say. She couldn't possibly say that to a Disney character. The knowledge that this fairy existed long before Walt Disney or even James Barrie didn't make a difference. Sighing, Mia started again.

"Look," she growled. "I don't take too kindly to tricks or attempts on my life. I have half a mind to tell Peter what you did when he gets back."

The pixie's eyes widened and her glow seemed to pale a little.

"But I won't," said Mia, taking pity on the creature even though she had every right to toss her across the room. "We'll keep this between us. But I'm warning you, I'm not going to put up with your nonsense much longer. Surely, we can settle our differences like mature young women."

But in response, Tinker Bell unsheathed her tiny dagger and delivered a slice to Mia's cheek. Wincing, Mia released her.

"Ow! You little-"

But Tinker Bell had already flown off. The cut on Mia's cheek was really nothing more serious than a paper cut, but a tiny drop of blood came away on her index finger. Mia glared across the room at the retreating fairy.

"I don't even know what you expect to happen between you and Peter!" she shouted at her. "The size difference alone isn't going to work, you know!"

It was funny she should mention Tinker Bell's size because just then Tinker Bell displayed exactly why she shouldn't be judged by her small stature. She seized Mia's backpack, the one with her sketchbooks and notebooks inside, and lifted it off the ground and zoomed towards the exit.

"H-Hey!"

How could she even do that? How did she manage it? Perhaps fairies were deceptively strong. Either that or she used some of her pixie dust to help it along.

"Tink! That's mine! Give it back!"

Mia chased the mean-spirited fairy out of the hideout and into the woods. Tinker Bell flew just high enough overhead that no matter how high Mia jumped, she couldn't quite reach her stuff. The fairy flew all the way to the clearing where Mia and Peter had shared a dinner of roasted rabbit over a small campfire her very first night on Neverland. Then, Tinker Bell turned the bag upside down and proceeded to dump its contents all across the clearing. Notebooks, sketchbooks, loose papers, pens, pencils, and charcoal were scattered all across the glade.

"Stop! No! Seriously! I mean it!" Mia shouted, but Tinker Bell proceeded to scatter her belongings until she'd completely emptied the bag, which she then dropped on Mia's head before zooming off through the woods.

"You nasty little sprite!" Mia shouted after her. But Tinker Bell was long gone.

Grumbling, Mia proceeded to gather up her belongings and stuff them back into her bag. Tinker Bell had certainly done a good job scattering them. At least the notebooks and sketchbooks were easy enough to find. The pens and pencils, however, would be trickier.

Throughout all her searching and grumbling and angry words muttered under her breath at a fairy who was nowhere near to hear her, Mia never heard the sound of several approaching footsteps. If she did, perhaps she would've had the good sense to run and make herself scarce.

She had just bent down to pick up a small notebook when a black boot entered her line of sight, so close that her fingers accidentally brushed it as she reached for her book. Mia froze. Ever so slowly, she straightened up, taking in a pair of formfitting maroon breeches, a fancy rapier, and crimson captain's coat along the way. As she rose to her full height, the snapping of a twig drew her attention to her left and she gasped. A pirate! In fact, as she slowly turned around, she discovered she was positively surrounded by the most deplorable assortment of rapscallions she'd ever laid eyes on.

_Oh no, oh no..._

Hesitantly, fearing she already knew what she would find, she turned back to face the man whose boot she had brushed and nervously allowed her eyes to finish their trajectory. Standing before her in a handsome coat of scarlet with gold trim and a matching wide-brimmed hat with an ostentatious feathered plume was the man who had haunted the dreams of children since James Barrie's play in 1904. Of all the burly, smelly cutthroats around her, he alone possessed an air of class and dignity. He was the quintessential gentleman pirate, but more than that, he was unexpectedly attractive.

Long, wavy raven hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back. His face could have been chiseled from stone, a living statue crafted by an artist of the Renaissance. His mustache and goatee were meticulously groomed and his eyes were as blue as the Forget-Me-Nots that adorned Mia's belt. His age was indeterminate, but he was a lot younger than she expected. Overall, this was nothing like how she pictured the notorious Captain Hook. But if there was any doubt in her mind as to who this handsome gentleman pirate might be, the steel hook at the end of his right arm was evidence enough.

For a moment, Mia gazed silently into those blue forget-me-not eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound escaped. She felt very much the way she had whilst drowning in the lagoon. Only this time she was drowning in the pools of Hook's eyes. When she finally found her voice, it was to mutter a single expletive, a word no Disney damsel, and certainly not Wendy when _she_ first encountered Hook, ever would have uttered, and yet that single word seemed to fit the situation perfectly.

Captain James Hook shook his head at the un-ladylike curse which slipped quietly through those lovely lips. "Tsk, tsk," he said, casually polishing his formidable appendage with an embroidered handkerchief. "Such language." His eyes flicked to the pirates standing at either side of Mia. "TAKE HER!"

Laughing heinously, two pirates took hold of her. One bound her tightly with ropes while the other gagged her. Gag was a very appropriate word for the bandanna that was so rudely stuffed and tied around her mouth, as that was exactly the reflex it triggered. A third pirate, perhaps the biggest and burliest of all, hoisted her over his shoulder.

Previously, Mia would have thought in a moment such as this that she would at least scream, perhaps even punch, kick, lash out, and make some attempt at a struggle. That was certainly what she would've made the heroine of one of her stories do in a similar situation. But Mia was quickly discovering that real life was very different than a story. In this reality, she was gripped by icy terror, and frozen in shock, almost in disbelief at what was happening. In this moment, her first thought, perhaps foolishly, was of her sketchbook and notebooks. Those contained her life's work, and the idea of losing them drove her closer to panic than anything else. However, that fear was soon assuaged.

"Smee," said Hook, delicately tucking his handkerchief into a hidden breast pocket beneath his jacket. "Bring the lady's personal effects, won't you?"

"Aye, Cap'n," the portly white-haired pirate replied as he began gathering her supplies and placing them in her bag.

Villain or no, Mia found herself filled with gratitude for silly old Smee. But now she had more important things to worry about as the pirates made their way swiftly towards the shore. She bobbed upon the large pirate's shoulder, which dug uncomfortably into her stomach, watching wide-eyed as the captain followed at a leisurely pace, grinning wickedly at her. By the time Mia thought to make an attempt at screaming loud enough to permeate the gag around her mouth, she was already seated across from the captain in a dinghy, which the pack-mule pirate was rowing across the water towards the large pirate vessel, the one and only Jolly Roger.

The rowboat bumped up alongside the hull of the ship. The large pirate hoisted Mia over his shoulder once more and proceeded to climb the rigging one-handed. He hauled himself onto the deck of the ship, taking Mia with him. He set her onto her feet as Captain Hook stepped aboard his ship.

"Men, we've embarked upon a most vital mission and have returned successful! We've captured the one thing that Peter Pan seems to hold most dear, the intriguing young woman who has made the boy who would never grow up decide that perhaps aging a little wouldn't be so bad after all."

He flashed a devilish smile in Mia's direction.

"And now begins the next phase of my plan."

Sothat's what this was all about. She was bait! Mia cursed her carelessness and the trouble it was going to cause Peter as a result.

"RAISE ANCHOR!" shouted Hook.

"Raise the anchor!" echoed Smee.

"LET OUT THE SAILS!"

"Let out the sails!"

"WE SET SAIL!"

"We set-"

Hook spun towards Smee, thrusting his hook under his chin. "Shut your gob, Smee!"

In a small voice, Smee replied, "Shutting it, Cap'n."

Mia's eyes went wide. They were setting sail! Where? Why? And with her?! If they took her away from Neverland, how would Peter find her? How would _anyone_ find her? Who could possibly rescue her? This didn't bode well. Not at all.

As the ship raised anchor and the sails were let out, a westerly wind turned the ship. With her wrists bound behind her back, Mia's equilibrium was already thrown off. So, when the ship leaned into the wind, she lost her balance and pitched towards the side of the deck. It seemed fate very much wanted her to drown today. However, she was quickly rescued by the suave captain himself as he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. Mia's head felt swimmy, and she wasn't entirely certain it could be blamed on the rocking of the ship.

"Now, now," the captain purred. "We mustn't have accidents. I suppose you don't have your sea legs yet. But that will change in due time, my dear."

_In due time?_

Mia didn't like the sound of that.

Keeping her pressed against him, Hook lifted his namesake and used it to lower the gag from her mouth. The effect was terrifying. Mia could feel the cold steel of the hook sliding gently down her cheek, the tip just barely touching her so not a single scratch was made. He did it with the finesse of a man who is very familiar and practiced with so dangerous an appendage. He continued to slide the bandanna down until it hung loosely about her neck. Mia winced and quirked her lips to one side and then the other, trying to rid herself of the awful taste.

"I do apologize for the gag, but I couldn't risk you making too much noise and alerting that wretched boy to our mischief. But now, by all means, my dear..." He trailed the back of his hook along her cheek and jaw. "Feel free to make as much noise as you desire, for I have far more delicious ways of smothering them."

Mia trembled, but she did her best to ignore his words, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of her screams. She did her best to make eye contact with him and adopt a haughty, unfrightened expression, which was difficult as she was, in fact, very frightened.

"D-Don't you think there might've been a politer way to h-handle this?" she asked more tremulously than she would have liked. "P-Perhaps you could have asked me nicely to be bait instead of trussing me up like a hunted animal."

Only after these words had escaped her lips did she realize how ridiculous they sounded. Mia averted her gaze embarrassedly.

"I mean, I obviously would've said no, but still, it's the principle of the matter," she mumbled.

Hook frowned. "I do apologize most sincerely, madam," he said, placing a hand on his chest and offering her a deep bow. "While I know good form dictates I behave in a more mannerly way, I'm afraid my window of opportunity was quite limited. Thus, a rushed ambush was necessary for your capture. I couldn't risk Pan returning in the midst of my elaborate plan. But good form or not, the ambush was a success. And now, young miss..." Hook raised his steel namesake, pressing its curve beneath her chin and tilting her face up towards his. "You... are... mine."

_In what way does he mean that?_ she wondered in a panic.

_Well, for the love of God, Mia, don't freaking ask him!_ the voice of reason shouted back.

Suddenly, Mia didn't feel very well.

_Don't swoon! Don't you dare freaking swoon, Miandra! You will_ NOT _be that kind of damsel! No, no, no! Don't cry either! Damn it, you're crying! What kind of modern heroine are you?_

As the first traitorous tear rolled down her cheek, the captain caught it on the steel of his hook.

"A tear?" he said. "A tear shed for me? Fear, is it? Is that what it is, my dear?" His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Do you fear being in the grasp of the most notorious pirate to sail the seas of Dizgaia?"

What should she say? To be honest, she'd prefer not to say anything at all. But she knew Hook would not approve of her silence. So how should she reply? Honestly? Or should she make some sort of attempt to salvage her dignity? If she replied positively, would he be offended that she feared him? Or, if she denied her fear, would he be furious that she _didn't_ fear him? Mia tried to think of what she would have the damsel say if this were a story she was writing.

_In truth, sir, I am both shocked and honored to be in your presence, but I do not much care for being kidnapped and used as a tool in a revenge plot. As for my tear, it is because you were making me stare up at the sun and it hurt my eyes._

Yes. That sounded good. Dignified, articulate, defiant and yet polite enough not to incite his wrath. However, when Mia opened her mouth to speak, fear gripped her throat like an overlarge fist, and all that came out was a choked sob.

Hook arched an eyebrow and cupped a hand behind his ear. "I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that, dear." He glanced at his crew and they began to laugh.

He was teasing her! Mia's cheeks burned. A righteous but perhaps unwise anger bubbled inside her. Mia replied in as dignified a voice as she could muster.

"If you please, sir... A true gentleman would return me home to Cerenopia. I'd rather not be a part of your war."

Hook's eyebrows lifted. "Cerenopia..." He glanced around at his crew again, saying the name with more emphasis. "Cerenopia... Is _that_ where you hail from? So... I've learned something about Peter Pan's mysterious lady already. Perhaps I will learn much, _much_ more."

Mia gulped. Was it wrong to say Cerenopia? Was that somehow incriminating? But arguably she'd have to be from _somewhere_ in Dizgaia. He had no way of knowing she was from Earth, so long as she was careful. And of the 10 Kingdoms, none of them were exactly on good terms with Captain Hook. So, what was the big deal? Perhaps he was simply surprised that she'd divulged so much information about herself, or perhaps he was hoping to secure a ransom for her.

With a grin that was somehow both dashing and villainous, Hook leaned closer to her. "Tell me, oh my mysterious lady... What is your name?"

Mia felt the temperature rise in her cheeks. She hoped it didn't show. With a tremulous breath, she replied, "M-Mia. My name is Mia... Baxter."

_Phew._ That was close. Granted, she was legally adopted, so Baxter was her true surname. But since arriving on Dizgaia, she'd taken to introducing herself as Miandra Mercurial, as that was the name people recognized. Possibly Hook would recognize it, too, and so it was wise that she'd given him her adopted name.

"Mia..." he said, as though he were taking the name into his mouth and tasting it. "Mia, is it? How perfect." Hook turned to address his crew. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Mia Baxter of Cerenopia. The mysterious girl who made The Boy... into A Man."

Mia's eyes went wide as the crew let out a collective "Oooooh."

Wait a minute! They thought that she... with Pan... that they... But that wasn't true! They'd never gotten to third base, even! Hell, she hadn't done anything more with Peter than she had with Flynn!

"I didn't!" Mia shouted indignantly. "We didn't do anything like that! We just..." Her cheeks burned crimson and she lowered her gaze. "I-I've never..."

Hook lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. Left him with his purity intact, did you? And you, yourself? A delicate little rosebud, I presume?"

Chuckling, he looked around at his crew.

"You hear that, men? It seems what we have here is just a case of heavy-petting, as it were. Well, well, well," he said, turning back to Mia. "It seems we have an innocent little virgin aboard our ship."

The men guffawed and Mia turned as scarlet as Hook's coat. She found it rather juvenile, even among pirates, to tease someone for being a virgin. But somehow, she suspected this wasn't exactly what they were doing. She almost wished it were. Suddenly, she was filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

"Well, Miss Baxter, allow me to express my relief that you did not take things further with that accursed boy. It will be difficult enough for you as it is when the day comes that he forgets you. Although, I am counting on that not happening _too_ soon, as it would certainly throw a wrench into my well-laid plans."

Mia drew in a sharp breath. Her heart seemed to stop. Peter... forget her? Could that be true? Would he really forget her? She supposed he did have a rather short-term memory, and he had often forgotten Wendy until someone brought her up. And even then, his mood soured whenever she was mentioned. He always preferred to forget things that were painful to him. And Mia... She was planning to leave him, to return to Cerenopia. How might that affect him in the long run? Perhaps one day she'd be just another Wendy to him.

Mia swallowed back a sob. Hook, however didn't seem to notice. He was polishing his hook again, as though he was very proud of the intimidating weapon he possessed in place of a right hand.

"By the way, it is quite the fortuitous name you have, my dear. For you see, I've sailed quite extensively all around Dizgaia. I'm quite the educated man, as compared to some common rogues."

He cast a scathing glance in the direction of his crew. The pirates chuckled awkwardly, uncertain as to whether they'd just been insulted.

"As such, I've become well-versed in many dialects. In particular, the Cariocan language. And in Cariocan, _Mia_ means... _Mine_."

Mia felt a chill run down her spine, and yet, at the same time, a rather warm feeling seemed to spread from deep within her belly. She swallowed hard. She did not like this strange feeling.

"And while I do intend to use you as bait to draw Pan out from Neverland," he continued, "I also intend to learn as much from you as I can. We shall indeed be spending _much_ time together." Hook flashed her that debonair smile before turning away and calling for his bosun. "Mr. Smee!"

Smee quickly pushed through the crowd to reach him, carrying Mia's bag. "Right 'ere, Cap'n!"

Hook motioned to Mia. "Escort Miss Baxter to my cabin."

A chorus of ooohs echoed this order and Hook swiveled around. "BELAY THAT FOOLISHNESS, YA BILGERATS OR I'LL CAST ANCHOR IN YOU! GET BACK TO YOUR POSTS!"

The crew was not alone in their interpretation of what this could mean. Mia couldn't think of many incidents in literature or movies where the wench was taken to the captain's cabin and debauchery _didn't_ ensue.

_Oh God... Is he going to... Oh, but he wouldn't, would he? He fancies himself a gentleman. But he IS a pirate. Oh no..._

Smee took Mia gently by the arm and led her across the deck. "Best do what the Cap'n says. 'Sides, it's probably more comfortable than the brig."

Mia didn't doubt it, but she wasn't so sure that she might not prefer the brig to the captain's quarters. Smee opened the door to the cabin and ushered her inside. It was everything she would have expected and more. There was a map table as well as a table for dining, a repository for Hook's choice of liquor, a harpsichord, a queen-sized canopy bed draped with scarlet hangings (best steer clear of that so as not to give any ideas), a Victorian style chaise lounge with red cushions and gilded frame, and at the back of the cabin a large bay window overlooking the sea. Hook certainly spared no expense on furnishing his cabin.

Mr. Smee led Mia to a seat at the table. He held out a chair for her. Much like the rest of the captain's cabin, these high-backed chairs had cushions of red velvet. With a little coaxing, Mia reluctantly took a seat. It was difficult to be entirely comfortable, however, as she still had her hands tied behind her back. Smee rushed about the cabin, rummaging through Hook's liquor cabinet to procure glasses and a bottle of spirits. Had Hook given him orders ahead of time or was Smee simply anticipating his captain's desires?

The bumbling bosun hummed a jaunty little tune under his breath. As he began to light a candelabra in the center of the table, he spoke casually to Mia. "You see, when the Cap'n has company of the lady-like variety, he likes there to be plenty of... uh... bubbly refreshment about. It puts 'im in a much less bloodthirsty mood."

Mia's face paled. "D-Does he often have female companionship? And is he often... um... bloodthirsty?"

Smee paused in his candle-lighting and scrunched up his wrinkled old face in thought. "Eeehhh... Well, I don't see much o' the cap'n canoodling with the ladies. He keeps that sorta thing to himself. Mostly when we're away from Neverland, methinks."

"Canoodling?"

"As for 'is bloodthirst... I think really the champagne just quenches his thirst-thirst."

Smee chuckled to himself until the match burnt down, burning the end of his thumb.

"Ouch!"

Just then, the cabin door burst open. The captain strode in, full of joyous confidence.

"Oh, such a glorious day, Mr. Smee. Ah, and I see you've already supplied my victory bubbly."

Smee leaned in close to Mia and whispered, "He's got a large supply. He's not victorious as often as he'd like ta' be."

"SMEE!"

Smee gave a little jump and finished lighting the candles on the table.

Mia might have laughed at Smee's not-so-conspiratorial aside, were she not so unnerved. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the edge of the table and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds of the fantasy... no... nightmare that surrounded her.

_Maybe I've just been sleeping this whole time. They say dreams only last about 5 to 45 minutes, but they always feel much longer after you've had them. Maybe that's all this is, or I could even be in a coma. Maybe there was an accident or something. I'm in the hospital, been asleep for weeks and having some epic dream about a world called Dizgaia. It started out nice, but now it's taken a turn for the worst. But now that I've become lucid, I'll wake up any moment now and mom and dad will fuss over me and I'll assure them I'm okay, and everything will be all right. Yeah... Yeah, that's it. Any moment now I'll wake up. Any minute..._

But an admonishment from Hook cut sharply into her thoughts.

"Mr. Smee! Are Miss Baxter's hands still bound behind the small of her back?"

"Why yes, Cap'n. Jus' as ya' wanted."

Hook motioned Smee towards him with a curling finger. The bosun did as commanded.

"And just how, Smee, would you expect the girl to be comfortable and share a drink with me... WITH HER HANDS TIED BEHIND HER BACK?"

Wincing, Smee rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. "Uhh... Maybe... we get her a straw, Cap'n?"

Hook stared at Smee in utter disbelief. Then, he brought his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache.

"Mr. Smee... Please... Untie the girl."

"Oh! Right away, Cap'n!"

Smee untied her hands and Mia brought them in front of her, wincing and flexing them. There were red stripes across her wrists where the ropes had bitten into her. The soreness in her wrists doused the flames of the fantasy that this might all just be a dream. If this were a dream, she wouldn't be able to feel that. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes once more, trying with difficulty to bask in her fantasy, hardly aware that she was speaking the mantra out loud.

"Wake up, Mia. Wake up. Just wake up. Wake up, Mia. All you have to do is wake up."

It was then she felt the cold steel of the back of the captain's hook trailing down her cheek like an icy caress.

"Oh yes, by all means, wake up," he drawled. "You're not really aboard my ship. This is all just a bad dream. When you awaken, you'll be lying in a grassy glade, wrapped in the arms of the 'wonderful' boy who continuously banes my existence."

Though she knew him to be right in front of her, she nonetheless let out a gasp when she opened her eyes and found those blue forget-me-nots gazing right back at her. God, how could someone be so frightening and yet so beautiful at the same time?

"Face facts, my dear," he said in a soothing tone. "You are where you are. And you and I have much to discuss."

"I can't imagine what," she mumbled, rubbing her cheek where he'd caressed it with his hook, giving a little shiver. "And I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Oh my, where are my manners?" said Hook, returning to his seat across the table. "Please... indulge in some of my fine spirits, my dear lady. Perhaps it will help take the edge off and calm your troubled nerves."

Smee popped the cork in the champagne bottle and poured both the captain and Mia a generous glass.

Mia gazed skeptically at the glass of champagne. The idea of taking something to calm her _was_ tempting, but she thought it best if she refrained. It would be wise to keep her wits about her whilst in Hook's presence.

"Now then, perhaps you can answer my first inquiry, which, getting straight to the point is this: How? How is it you were able to woo Pan? How is it that you've made him desire to advance his years?"

"Wait, what? Woo? I didn't woo him. _He_ came on to _me_."

Hook was just taking a sip of champagne when he hesitated, the glass hovering at his lips. He and Smee glanced at one another in wide-eyed disbelief.

"Peter... Peter came on... to _you?_ " Hook repeated slowly.

Smee gave his head a little shake. "We _are_ talkin' about Peter Pan, ain't we?"

Hook set his glass down and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "How could that be so? The boy knows nothing of love... passion... romance... lust. How could it be that you've brought these tendencies out in him?"

"Ye sure ya' ain't some kinda enchantress, Miss?" asked Smee.

"Enchantress?" asked Mia. "I wish. If I were, I certainly wouldn't be in this predicament."

At first, she half feared that Hook might be offended or annoyed by her flippant response, but instead he looked mildly amused, as evidenced by the upwards quirk of his lips.

She couldn't stop staring at him. He was so entirely different from what she would have ever expected. Age indeterminate; a bit older than Flynn and quite a bit younger than her father, he was an entrancing enigma, to say the least. He was almost a work of art, from the way he dressed to his handsome, chiseled face. And those eyes...

Mia thought, if she was to be kidnapped by Captain Hook, at least he looked like this and not like his Disney counterpart. But all the same, there was another part of her contemplating the pros, cons and likelihood of survival were she to throw herself through the glass window at the back of his cabin and into the ocean. After all, this was a dangerous situation, and she mustn't allow herself to be taken in by a handsome face.

Hook was still gazing at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to impart some sort of wisdom or shed some insight into the situation with Peter. Mia realized she'd never properly answered his question. This was not the sort of man you kept waiting.

"Look," she said exasperatedly. "How am I supposed to know? I was just minding my own business in Main Street when one day he just swooped down and carried me off to Neverland. He wanted me to be their new storyteller."

The fact that the conversation centered around Peter and not her put Mia a little more at ease and she found herself speaking fluently.

"Truth be told, he was already older than I expected him to be."

Uh oh. Perhaps that was an incriminating thing to say. She must be wary about referencing the 'stories' from Earth.

"I mean, uh, never having met him before, I assumed he'd be... well, a child and not a teenager. Anyway, he was very specific that my title was that of 'storyteller.' And any time the Lost Boys said anything about mothers, he got really upset. I told him I had no desire to be anyone's mother. The night I told him was that night that he... Well, he... he kissed me," she mumbled, embarrassed. "And ever since, we..."

She trailed off and a blush came to her cheeks as she narrowed her gaze at Hook and Smee.

"Jeez! I mean, you _do_ realize this is extremely personal, don't you?"

"Yes... yes... Right you are, dear. It is _much_ too personal," said Hook with a knowing expression.

"That was when we saws the two of 'em gettin' hot and heavy on the beach, weren't it?" asked Smee.

Mia was mortified. Her face turned the same color as Hook's coat and she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh God... Kill me."

"Get out," Hook ordered his bosun.

"What's that, Cap'n?"

"Get. Out."

Smee tilted his head. "Was I wrong, then?"

The captain slammed his fist on the table and rose from his chair. "Get out, get out, GET OUT!" He raised his steel appendage in the air threateningly, sending Smee scurrying out of the cabin.

"Getting', Cap'n," said Smee. He tripped over the threshold and the door slammed shut behind him.

Just when Mia allowed herself to feel some relief that there was one less person to hear about her romantic escapades, she realized with increasing horror that she was now entirely alone with Captain Hook in his cabin. This gave her zero incentive to gaze up from her hands. She kept her face hidden, indulging for a moment in the childish idea that if shecouldn't see him,then hecouldn't see her.

Hook stood with his back to Mia, facing the door through which is bosun had left, his expression and emotions unfathomable. Finally, he retook his seat but maintained his silence a while longer. Slowly, he took a sip of his bubbly beverage, which seemed to give him the motivation to proceed.

"Perhaps a different course of questioning is warranted," he said. "Regardless of Pan's ability to feel... I can easily perceive how any man could be drawn to a lovely young woman such as yourself."

A compliment. And quite a flattering one at that. However, such compliments from Captain Hook were something Mia felt she could do without. It only made her nervous. Still, she could feel her cheeks warming as she spread her fingers just enough to peek at him from between them. But she did not lower her hands from her face, for fear he'd see the blush on her cheeks.

"That wasn't a question," she corrected him before adding a hesitant, "...sir."

Hook grinned and rose from his seat. "Right you are, Miss Baxter. Very perceptive, indeed."

He crossed the room, not towards Mia, but to his charting table.

"You stated that Peter whisked you off to Neverland because he desired a storyteller. But it seems to me there must be more to you than just that. Judging by what we found on your person when we captured you, perhaps there's an additional talent that struck Pan's fancy and drew him to you."

He rifled through her bag, pulling out her sketchbook.

"Ah, yes. Here we are." He opened it and began to peruse its contents.

Mia leaped to her feet so suddenly her chair scraped loudly across the wooden floor. "N-No, wait!"

At the very least, it was not her stories he had infiltrated, but her art was still something she only shared with those closest to her. And now, Captain Hook was gazing through her sketchbook, no doubt with a critical eye of a man so refined.

"Please," she begged, reaching for her sketchbook. "I'm just a novice. And it's all very personal. Please don't look through it!"

"Relax, girl," he said with a hint of irritation, throwing out an arm and blocking her efforts to claim her sketchbook back from him. "You're on my ship and in my possession. The same goes for your belongings. Nothing is off limits to me. Besides... These are certainly not the work of any novice. True artistic talent exists within these pages. This book, my dear, is a treasure of immense value."

Mia gaped at him, flattered in spite of herself. Captain James Hook of J.M. Barrie's famous story was not only standing right before her eyes, but he was looking through her artwork... and he liked it!

"R-Really?" she asked, daring to draw closer to him. "You're entirely serious?"

"I kid you not, Miss Baxter," he replied. "You see, a pirate captain I may be, but I am also a man of high education, an alumnus of Kingstone College in Paridon. I know true art when I see it. This... is utterly superb."

Mia was so taken by him, so flattered by his compliment, that for a moment she completely forgot her predicament and proceeded to pull out a second sketchbook to show him.

"In that case, you should check these ones out. This is some of my colored work. I'm still dappling in water color. Not my preferred medium, but I love pastels. There's a painting in here, too. It's unfinished, though. I was taking a class before I dropped out of college."

Hook arched an eyebrow as his gaze moved from the pages of the second sketchbook to the excitable girl who held it. For a brief moment, she seemed almost unafraid of him, as though she had forgotten to whom she was speaking, so excited was she that he'd taken an interest in her work. His praise of her artwork seemed to have broken her out of her shell, and in her excitement, she had all but forgotten that he'd taken her prisoner. The girl was suddenly like a child in primary school showing off her proudest work to a parent. She positively radiated with youthful energy. It wasn't any wonder Peter had taken a liking to this girl. She was creative. A dreamer. She almost had a sort of... spark.

"I see you're very passionate about your work," he said, taking the second sketchbook from her. "And rightfully so. I find your glowing enthusiasm over your artistic endeavors to be quite invigorating."

The girl beamed as he continued to browse through her sketchbook. Such magnificent detail. Such wondrous likenesses recorded onto the pages. He lingered on some of the portraits of the people in the book. Naturally, there were images of Peter and the Lost Boys. Though it annoyed him, he'd expected as much, and he couldn't argue as to their beautiful rendering. But there were other portraits, too. Ones which he found particularly distressing. There was the Dreamfinder and his accursed pet dragon of all people, as well as Princess Tiana, the wife of the Prince of Maldonia. What was all this?

Hook turned to her, holding the sketchbook open by the spine to the page depicting Blair Mercurial and his dragon.

"You certainly seem to know some important people, Miss Baxter. _Very_ important people. Is there something you'd like to share with me, dear? Who are you that you should know such... distinguished people?"

Mia froze. She'd almost forgotten she'd drawn her father and her friends from Cerenopia. And Hook was right. They were rather prominent figures in Dizgaia. Your average girl may not be expected to hobnob with such people. This could be incriminating... and dangerous. Unless she thought of something quickly.

"Th-They're just people I admire," she stammered. "I don't know them personally or anything."

"I see," said Hook, setting her book aside and slowly stalking towards her. "I suppose for a young, innocent, naive girl such as yourself, such figures could hold a certain... appeal. However..."

He continued to advance and Mia took several steps back from him.

"Perhaps one day a more... notorious figure might grace the pages of your sketchbook."

Gulping nervously, Mia retreated from him until her back was against the dining table and she could go no further. Somehow his current course seemed just as dangerous as when he'd suspected she personally knew the people in her sketchbook. She must steer the conversation away from herself.

"L-Look, Captain," she said. "You should know... I honestly don't think your scheme is going to work."

Hook's smile slipped from his face and he tilted his head inquisitively. "Oh? You don't, do you? Do you truly believe that I, James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger, can't concoct a brilliant enough plan to bring Peter Pan into my grasp once and for all?"

His tone had grown dangerous. Mia knew what she must say to convince him to let her go, but she must be very careful how she said it. She didn't want him running her through for some perceived insult.

"I didn't say that, Captain. Please don't put words into my mouth. I'm not trying to offend you. Clearly, you're more than capable. I'm simply suggesting that you've made a very understandable mistake in that you've misinterpreted the relationship between me and Peter."

"Oh?" he said, raising a single eyebrow. "Have I now?"

"Watching from afar, you seemed to have come to the conclusion that he's in love with me or something. The truth is, he's just a hormonal teenage boy and I'm... Well, I'm the first girl he's..." Blushing, she averted her gaze. "Well, _you know_..."

"I'm not sure that I do, Miss Baxter," said Hook, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Do enlighten me."

Mia's cheeks burned from embarrassment. He certainly seemed to enjoy teasing her.

"We've already discussed it, Captain," she said, mustering up her haughtiest expression. "And you've clearly seen it for yourself. I see no reason to repeat it. What I'm trying to say is I'm not so sure he actually cares for me beyond... b-beyond that."

Her sentence ended in a sharp, involuntary gasp. Unbidden tears welled in her eyes. She'd only intended to convince Hook that Peter didn't care enough for her to rescue her, thus convincing the wicked captain to release her. But now that she'd spoken this alleged 'falsity' out loud, she realized that deep down this was the very thing she most feared - that Peter didn't truly love her, that what they had was merely a case of teenage puppy love, simple infatuation. Something shallow and transient.

Hook frowned at her in a manner that was almost sympathetic. "Come to a painful epiphany, have you?"

Mia's eyes stung with tears, which shimmered in her eyes but had yet to fall. She covered her mouth and averted her gaze, trying not to release the sob which so desperately threatened to slip through her lips.

"You poor dear," Hook cooed with what almost sounded like legitimate sympathy. "I see you've just realized the truth in falling for a creature such as Pan. Truly, Peter Pan is a creature of instinct. Emotional attachment is, sadly, a concept he has no grasp of. He is but a selfish beast that knows nothing of love. As wonderful of a boy Peter is, selfishness is his ultimate flaw."

These words were like an ice prick to Mia's heart as the tears in her eyes threatened to streak down her cheeks. Nonetheless, something he said didn't sit right with her.

"Now, wait," she said slowly. "That's not entirely fair."

She thought back to what Peter had told her about the Lost Boys and of how he'd made her promise not to tell them they were dead so as to protect them from that pain. She remembered how angry and upset he'd become at the mention of mothers, of how Wendy's abandonment had hurt him deeply. She recalled how he had finally made the difficult decision to return her to Cerenopia, despite his selfish desire to keep her, because he didn't want an ill fate to befall her.

"I know he can be a tad selfish, but during my time with him, I've learned he's a lot deeper than anyone gives him credit for. I've seen evidence to suggest that he can, in fact, be warm and generous and selfless. And while he may not understand the concept of love in so many words, I daresay he's capable of feeling it, and I think he does feel _something_ for me, be it love or at the very least strong affection."

As she spoke, a warmth spread through her body and her chest swelled. Mia was instilled with newfound hope that Peter _did_ care about her and _would_ come to rescue her after all.

At first, Hook remained silent, his expression unfathomable. But slowly, a wicked smile spread across his face.

"So... he _does_ feel. And if what you say is true, my dear, then Pan _will_ come for you. Peter Pan will come to rescue his maiden fair, and when he does, I will be ready for him!"

And with that, Captain Hook revealed the trap she'd walked into with her stubborn and loquacious mouth. Mia's lips parted, as though seeking to speak, but coming up empty. Hook let out a small laugh as he took Mia's chin in his hand.

"Thank you, my dear, for having such strong conviction and filling me with confidence that I _will_ soon have Peter Pan right where I want him."

Suddenly, Mia's chest no longer felt like it was swelling with hope, but that it had gone concave with despair. She had attempted to convince Hook that Peter didn't care for her as a way to persuade him to release her. But instead, she fell into a clever trap of revealing Peter did care for her, cementing Hook's resolve that holding her prisoner was exactly what he must do. Mia stepped back from him, forcing his hand to lower. Her eyes had a look of glazed hopelessness. She retreated until she found herself sitting on the chaise lounge.

"How... How did I walk right into that?" she murmured to herself. She buried her face in her hands.

_Idiot! Moron! Dumbass! It's always your fool mouth that gets you into these messes, Mia._

As Mia cried into her upturned palms, the captain took the glass of untouched champagne from the table and sat down beside her.

"Dear, dear Mia," he cooed. "There is no need to cry. Things needn't be as bleak as you seem intent on painting them."

He placed the curve of his hook beneath her chin and raised her head to gaze at him.

"A precious young woman of such talent and considerable beauty could find herself quite happy in more... mature company." He offered her the glass of champagne and Mia reluctantly took it.

"You want me to partake in spirits to celebrate my own kidnapping?" she asked. "Isn't that a little twisted?"

But something else he said suddenly sunk in.

_Considerable beauty?_ Mia lowered her gaze to her drink, hoping he couldn't tell that her cheeks were burning. _He must not get around much,_ she thought, staring into the beige liquid.

If she were to be Captain Hook's prisoner and was to face such vague and worrisome propositions, perhaps she was entitled to indulge just a little. It may be the only way to get through this. Mia took a swig, only to lower it, sputtering and coughing.

"It's so dry," she wheezed. "And bitter. How do you drink this stuff?"

"You develop a taste for it over time. You're still young, yet. But your taste for it will certainly change... as, I hope, will some of your... other... tastes." The captain raised his steel appendage and trailed it gently through a lock of her hair.

Mia looked at him, and suddenly she was drowning in those deep blue pools again. It took an excruciating effort to avert her gaze. She replied tremulously.

"B-But you're going to let me go, right? After you've captured Peter, that is?"

Of course, Mia rather hoped and even expected that Peter would rescue her and Hook's plan would fail. After all, that's how the stories went. All versions ended the same. Peter always won; Hook always lost. In her mind, Mia could hear her father, Edward Baxter, reading the story of _Peter Pan_ to her when she was but a little girl.

_'Bad form,' he cried jeeringly, and went, content to the crocodile. Thus perished James Hook._

Mia did not think she had it in her to wish death upon anyone, even a villain such as Hook, but she certainly hoped for a successful fight and subsequent rescue by Peter. Nonetheless, if the worst was to happen, much as she hated to think it, for she did very much care for Peter, she wanted to ensure that at least her freedom would be given to her should Hook's plan prove a success. She must put that idea into Hook's head at all costs - Defeat Pan, free Mia.

"So eager to leave my ship already, is she?" said Hook with a wide grin. "After all, I would think that being out at sea might give you an excellent opportunity to pursue your artistic endeavors. Would it not give you an advantageous opportunity to sketch some new, wonderful subjects? After all, I'd certainly hate for that breathtaking talent to go to waste."

Oh dear. His smile was only growing wider. This wasn't good. Nor were his words. They were tempting, seductive. Mia lowered her gaze in contemplation. It was true that there was potential for adventure and exploration sailing Dizgaia's seas aboard the Jolly Roger. And she could document it all within the pages of her sketchbook!

Hook leaned closer to her with that handsome smile perpetually affixed to his face. Mia let out an audible gasp and leaned back against the chaise lounge in a futile effort to put more distance between them.

"Would sailing the world aboard this vessel and seeing the many sights a young girl such as yourself could only dream of not appeal to your artistic curiosity?"

"It... It would," she admitted.

Yes, it appealed to her very much. There was an eagerness and a warmth spreading slowly through her body, and she was unsure whether it could be blamed on the alcohol or something else. She had just enough presence of mind to understand what Hook was doing. He was attempting to seduce her, much as he had entranced Wendy in the stories. Only, Wendy was a little girl he merely wished to charm, and Mia was a young woman. Mia thought perhaps her situation may be a little more dangerous than that of Wendy's.

"But you kidnapped me," she said finally. "And you're a bad guy. I find that just a bit... discomforting." Somehow, she managed to lift her gaze to his. "Plus, I have friends and family who will worry about me. If Peter fails to rescue me and you're victorious, I think it would be good form to return me home, or at least put me in the direction of someone who _can_ take me home."

Hook's smile began to wane. "Good form?" he said, his threatening inflection returning. "Do not presume to lecture _me_ on good form. In this scenario, you have no options available to you!"

Mia cowered, pressing back against the chaise lounge as far as she could go. Perhaps her use of the phrase 'good form' had been a poor choice, as Captain Hook seemed to pride himself on being a strong observer of it and disliked the idea of someone else telling him what was good form and what wasn't.

"Do you believe I would allow someone with a gift as desirable as yours slip through my fingers? _When_ \- not if - but _when_ Peter falls, not only will Neverland be mine, but perhaps I shall also make you into your Cariocan namesake, dear, sweet Mia."

Mia's face paled, save for a rosy flush high on her cheeks. She turned her head away from him to hide the frightened, helpless tears that spilled from her eyes. The captain's grin returned. Yes... This was the way it should be. The girl had a healthy fear of him, which proved once and for all the dominance of Hook!

The captain leaned in close, so very, very close, his lips hovering just over her ear. "You're my guest here, Mia. You may as well make yourself comfortable. Because you and I..." With his hook, the captain snagged the strap of her dress and slowly pulled it down from her shoulder with careful dexterity. "We're going to be spending some time together, the two of us."

Captain Hook buried his face against the side of her neck, trailing seductive kisses along her tender flesh. Trembling, Mia dropped the champagne glass, and it fell to the floor with a crash.


	29. Aboard The Jolly Roger

Captain Hook's predatory advances had gone no further that day. Mia was spared his lustful encroachments by a timely interruption by Mr. Smee, who burst into the cabin, apologizing for interrupting their 'canoodling,' but that the captain was needed on deck. Hook had stormed out in a rage, locking Mia in his cabin. Mia didn't know what sort of business the captain was up to on deck, but she often heard his angry shouts and his hurled insults as he spouted orders to the crew.

Mia was alone in the cabin for the better part of the day. Left to her own devices, her mind was a playground for cruel doubts. Would Peter really come for her? And would he rescue her or die trying? Would Captain Hook's trap work? And most importantly, would she be able to resist the handsome but wicked pirate's advances?

In her loneliness, fear, and helplessness, there was but one thing she could do for catharsis. Mia took out her pencils and sketchbook and worked diligently at Hook's map table. Mia wished she had the conscious ability of creation like her biological father. Then she'd create herself some sort of deus ex machina to escape this otherwise hopeless situation. But it was one thing to magically create a new dress in your subconscious while you slept, and quite another to consciously materialize something you desperately needed out of thin air the moment you needed it.

Eventually, even drawing proved itself too weak of a task to suspend her worries and fears, and she resorted to the one thing that pirates most often indulged in – spirits. She poured herself another generous serving of Hook's bubbly. It was dry and awful, and not at all to her taste. Furthermore, it was risky to place herself under its influence, especially considering her predicament, but she wanted desperately to numb her emotions. If she was lucky, perhaps just as she drowned her sorrows in the drink, it, in turn, would drown her in sleep.

After a fruitful but exhausting day, Hook returned to his cabin. There, he found his lovely captive fast asleep on the chaise lounge with her arm slung over the side, her fingers brushing the floor, where just inches away lay an empty champagne glass. His bottle of bubbly was nearly empty. No doubt this was the refuge she sought from her sorrows and fears, the only escape afforded to her – the escape of a chemically-induced sleep.

With a disapproving shake of his head, he poured the rest of the bubbly for himself and drank it as he sat at his charting table and updated his captain's log with a feathered quill dipped in ink. There were many things the captain prided himself in, one of which was his excellent penmanship. Years of practice with what was once his non-dominant hand had honed his skills with both sword and pen far beyond reproach.

When he was finished, he closed his book and stretched. He doffed his outer vestments and readied himself for bed. But first, he tucked a spare pillow beneath the girl's head and draped a blanket over her. For him, his satin sheets would have to do. After all, the lady's comfort must come before his own. Let his enemies say what they would about him; James Hook was a gentleman through and through.

~~~

The next three days of Mia's life were spent aboard the Jolly Roger. For a prisoner, she was well treated. It was not so unlike Hook had told her in his cabin the first day; she was his guest and could be made comfortable. She was given a new dress, one not fabricated by her subconscious mind, as it seemed her separation from Neverland had ended that streak of 'dreamfinding' ability. Instead, it was the captain who presented her with a beautiful satin gown in the Victorian style. It was a deep blue, like the ocean, with black trim, and no doubt suited his fancy. It was not to Mia's liking, but she figured it would be more prudent to accept the gift than to reject it, as inciting Hook's wrath was not a wise decision.

For all his gloating and teasing Mia her first day aboard, Hook was now the perfect gentleman and exhibited impressive restraint. Mia began to suspect that much of his behavior on deck the day of her kidnapping had been nothing more than male posturing for his crew, for now he gave strict orders in how his men were to conduct themselves around her. Mia was free to walk about the ship as she pleased, and any pirate who did anything but doff his cap and bow to her saying, "Miss," was either flogged or run through for bad form, depending on the captain's mood, which seemed only to grow fouler with each passing day.

One crewman in particular was foolish enough to make a pass at her. Mia had gone into the galley, which she frequented to chat with the cook, who, next to Smee, was the friendliest pirate aboard. 'Bear,' as the cook was so aptly nicknamed due to his large, shaggy appearance, spent most of his time below decks and didn't often talk with the other pirates. But he liked Mia and enjoyed her visits so much that he often allowed her to help herself to the apple barrel which held the sweetest, crispest apples she'd ever tasted. But trouble loomed in the form of Alf Mason, a pirate who often lurked in the shadows watching Mia. Boldly, he cornered her when she'd gone into the galley, had brazenly put his hands on her and purred salacious threats at her. Bear was quick to report him to the captain, and the man was dealt with most harshly.

Hook had personally torn Mason off of Mia and dragged him onto the deck and threatened him with keelhauling. Mia, an aficionado of swashbuckling tales knew keelhauling to be a form of punishment in which the offending crew member was tied to a line which was looped beneath the ship and dragged though the water beneath the hull. It was a punishment which often resulted in death.

In a show of compassion, and perhaps against her better judgement, Mia advocated on his behalf, beseeching Hook to show him mercy. To her surprise, Hook relented. Instead, the man was flogged with the cat o' nine tails, which was still quite brutal but a far less fatal punishment, and afterwards, the man humbly thanked Mia for her mercy, and ever since treated her with the utmost respect.

Mia did her best to avoid Hook at all costs, preferring to spend her time sitting upon a barrel on deck, sketching the ocean, gulls, distant islands, or other such scenery that suited her fancy. Sometimes she even managed to convince one of the pirates to pose for her. So pleased were they with their portrait, they often begged to keep it, and Mia was so flattered she could not deny them. In this way, she managed to make friends with the more amicable pirates on Hook's crew.

Making friends had its benefits. In conversation with the crew, she learned that Hook's plot involved luring Pan into the open ocean, far from the magic of the island and from the protection of his allies, and where the captain was safely out of range of the ticking crocodile, granting Peter one less weapon to use against him.

"The cap'n left 'im a clue, see?" said Alf Mason, always wanting to be helpful where Mia was concerned. "Once 'e figures out you've been taken, Pan'll set out."

"The boy oughtta catch up ta' us by the end o' the third day, as the crow flies," added Cecco, taking a puff on his tobacco pipe as he gazed out across the sea at the island which was now nothing more than a spec on the horizon.

Mia often worried that Hook would attempt more lustful advances, particularly as she was made to share his cabin with him night after night, but she soon discovered that, at least for the time being, she had nothing to fear. Hook was too preoccupied with his plans for Peter, and it seemed he was intentionally saving the spoils for after his victory was assured. Mia could only hope that Peter would come out of this the victor. Every morning, she gazed upon the sketch she'd done of him that day beneath the willow tree, which felt like so long ago now. Above it, she had scrawled the words, "Faith, hope, and trust," to serve as a reminder that all hope was not lost, and to trust that her lover would come for her, and that good would triumph over evil.

In the ensuing days, the only times Mia saw the captain at more than just a distance was during mealtimes, in which she was required to dine with him as per his demands. At these times, he was ever the perfect gentleman, chatting amiably with her and requesting to see the fruits of her day's labors and offering kind words of encouraging or constructive criticisms where warranted. But Pan's impending arrival made him tense and impatient, and his mood became increasingly sour with each passing day to the point where conversation at mealtimes became almost nonexistent.

On the third day, Hook awoke bright and early with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, ready to engage Peter whenever the hated boy decided to appear. As Hook had predicted, there'd been no sign of Pan the two days prior, but now he was ready for him. This third day, Pan was _sure_ to appear.

Hook had quite the surprise in store for Peter, a gift of destruction that he'd been itching to unleash upon the boy. A special cannonball had been crafted specifically for battle against Pan by Hook's dark allies, a cannonball which gave off an eerie green glow and had only to be activated and then placed within Long Tom and fired at the accursed boy. It would not miss its mark. And the result would be fatal. The master gunner stood at the ready with the cannonball. Hook stood at the quarterdeck, holding its repository, a small black treasure chest with a skull and crossbones lock.

Both captain and captive stood on deck, each eagerly searching the skies for Peter. Mia wore a look of eager hope, whilst the captain's expression was one of hungry bloodlust. But as the sun fell from the sky to the sea and Peter was not to be found, both came to the realization of the disheartening truth. Peter, in all his childlike whimsy, had quite forgotten about Mia. He would not be coming for her. She may as well not even exist.

Hook was fury personified. His well-laid plans, his foolproof trap had failed due to the boy's infantile lack of memory. And Mia... Mia was suffering the second greatest disappointment of her young life – her first true heartache. Peter had forgotten her.

Mia stood at the bow, Hook at the stern. Their eyes met across the vast length of the ship. Acute fury met unrelenting sorrow, and for a moment, both parties connected with just one look in their shared disappointment. Mia was the first to look away, folding her arms upon the bulwarks and burying her face in them. Her shoulders shook as her tears spilled into the ocean.

"I simply cannot believe it!" Hook growled, plunging his hook into the wooden railing. "I know that Pan's memory is faulty, but this time... this time I was _certain_ it would remain intact! Where is that damn boy?"

Mia could barely contain her sobs. She could feel the eyes of the pirates she'd befriended gazing pityingly at her, but they did not dare approach. To offer comfort to their captive for her lack of rescue would not be viewed favorably by their captain. Mia didn't mind. She didn't want their sympathy. Besides, if Peter had come, they would have killed him, per Hook's orders.

She supposed on the one hand she should be relieved that Peter didn't show. From what she'd seen of Hook's plan, it seemed surefire and deadly, and she had been frightened that Peter might not come out of the encounter victorious and unscathed, or, dare she think it, alive. By not showing, Peter's life was not forfeit. And yet... the fact that he'd not come for her, had not attempted to rescue her showed that he'd forgotten all about her, just as he'd forgotten Wendy. If he could forget her so easily, then he must not have truly cared for her as deeply as she had cared for him. Mia didn't think she'd ever experienced a pain so great as the one she now felt deep in her heart.

The sun was dipping lower into the distant sea. The captain yanked his hook free of the banister and gave his crew the order to stand down. He descended to the main deck, passing the small chest to the gunner.

"Reseal the weapon and place it back in my cabin, Foggerty."

"Aye, Captain."

Shaking his head in agitation, Hook crossed the deck to the bow where Mia was sobbing. He stopped beside her and spoke in a low, apologetic tone. "It seems Peter has disappointed us. Whatever adventure he has sought out appears to be far more important than either of us." He gazed upon the girl with an expression of sincere pity and added softly, "To not come for one as precious as you... is the action of a true fool."

Mia lifted her head from her arms. Her cheeks were stained with the silver tracks from her tears. In all her distress and against her better judgement, Mia threw herself into Hook's arms and crumpled. She buried her face in his coat and sobbed. It no longer mattered who or what this man was, only that he was a man – an older, more mature man – who might offer her the comfort she so desperately needed in the face of teenage heartache.

At first, Hook was taken aback, but he did not hesitate to embrace her. "My poor girl," he cooed, caressing her hair with his remaining hand. "Do let it out. It will do you no good to keep such sorrow bottled up inside. But allow me to offer this small gleam of hope. Although sorrow and heartbreak may hurt in the moment, overcoming them will only make us stronger in the long run."

"I don't want to be stronger," came her muffled words from his chest. "I just want to die! You wanted to kill someone, right? Let it be me!"

Hook lifted an eyebrow, his lips forming an expression that was half amused, half exasperated. Her words were the product of teenage angst, definitely the sort of thing only a teenage girl suffering her first heartbreak would say. Yes, she was quite young and innocent, wasn't she, to suffer so thoroughly over what would, in the grand scheme of things, be a mere pebble thrown in the pool of her life. But pebbles make ripples, and ripples expand and the water often takes time to settle. In this way, Mia was sure to suffer a long time before she could truly get over it... unless someone new came along to make her forget the pain of the first.

"That would be a tragic waste, my dear," said Hook. "I couldn't possibly fulfill that request. Come. Back to my cabin. Perhaps we'll find some way to mend your broken heartstrings."

Hook led her back across the deck towards his cabin, pausing on the way to whisper an order to his quartermaster, Mr. Starkey.

"Keep watch in case the boy _does_ appear. Alert me _only_ then. Otherwise, I am not to be disturbed."

Hook guided Mia into his cabin, closing the door behind them. He set her gently upon the chaise lounge and took a seat at her side.

"Mia... Poor, distraught young thing. It is a dire shame that disappointment shall overshadow us this day. But in my time, I've come to see that Peter Pan is not all he is cracked up to be. Peter Pan, by his very nature, is not the embodiment of youth, but the embodiment of inevitable heartache, of unavoidable disappointment. And now, at the expense of your emotions, you have seen the truth firsthand. This simply _is_ the way of Pan."

"I... I thought he cared about me," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I... I swear I felt it in him. It was there. But he forgets so easily. I thought... I thought perhaps I was different. That he wouldn't forget me. I fancied myself special. But I was an idiot," she said, her tone darkening. "If he can forget me so easily, then... then I must not have been very special to him."

Mia glanced at her sketchbook which sat beside her on the lounge. It was open to the picture she'd sketched of Peter that day beneath the willow tree. In an immature fit of rage, she tore the page out of the book. She held it for a moment in her trembling hands, teardrops falling onto the paper and smearing the charcoal.

"He was my first love," she said softly. "The first boy I ever really cared about in that way." 

She crumpled the paper into a ball and chucked it across the room. Then she threw herself prostrate upon the chaise lounge with her head in Hook's lap and cried.

"Please," she begged between sobs. "Take me home. Let me go back to my father. I've been tortured enough to last me a lifetime!"

"Sweet, Mia..." Hook cooed, caressing her hair. "Naïve girl that you are, surely you know very well that, for me, that would be impossible. If I were to sail my ship within _any_ distance of Cerenopia, I would be under immediate attack. I am not prepared to face off with Cynthia's royal fleet. Bearing that in mind, I will _not_ be returning you home."

Mia's hand balled into a fist on his knee and she cried harder. Hook doffed his hat and tossed it onto the table across from them, shaking out his long raven hair. Silky black tendrils spilled down his back and shoulders in a way that made even the most stouthearted women swoon.

"I can, however, offer you something more," he said. "Seeing as Pan has let us both down, perhaps I can present a consolation prize for us both."

_Something more than returning me home? What is he talking about? There's nothing better than returning me home and ending this nightmare!_

The curve of the steel hook came to her chin. Gasping, Mia was forced to obey its command, slowly rising to a sitting position. The captain's blue-forget-me-nots ensnared her wide, shimmering gaze. She could not look away. He leaned towards her, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers.

"I can offer you," he said, "an escape. A chance to unfurl your anger and frustrations with a man of experience and maturity. One who shall never forget you... and who will ensure that _you_ never forget him."

A pink hue graced Mia's damp cheeks. It was all too obvious what he was proposing. She swallowed nervously. God, he was so handsome! It wasn't fair! How could she possibly stand a chance against him?

_But he's evil! He's a villain, a bad guy! He's one of the Dark Ones! And he doesn't know who you really are._

If he knew, what might he do? His offer for an escape, for a release with him, was undeniably tempting. But this was far too dangerous for comfort.

"A-And I suppose," said Mia, her lips brushing unintentionally yet unavoidably against his as she spoke in a tremulous whisper, "I suppose if I were to respectfully decline, y-you would have me anyway?"

Her body was atremble. There was an undeniable magnetic pull to him, but also a healthy dose of fear and an obligation to resist at all costs.

Hook was already tilting his head to the side, ready to make delicious contact, but he hesitated as he considered her words. This was a difficult question. To force oneself onto a woman against her will was an act of bad form. A very severe act of bad form. But... he was a pirate. Ravaging women, that was simply a pirate's way, was it not? A villain's way. But was it _his_ way? And yet, in the emotional state which the girl now found herself, could she possibly resist him?

"Do you, in this time of need, truly have the will to push me away?" he asked softly.

Mia's eyes grew large. His words struck a chord. _Did_ she have the will? After all that had happened, first with Flynn, and now with Peter, did she possess the strength to turn down a man who actually wanted her?

Hook didn't wait for a response. He pressed his mouth firmly against hers, stealing a kiss from the lips that Pan had so desperately coveted. How sweet a sensation it was to claim the lips of the lovely young woman that Peter Pan so carelessly let slip through his fingers! Pan's loss, Hook's gain.

Mia couldn't believe this was happening. But why not? He'd made a move on her the first day he'd kidnapped her. Had she really been foolish enough to think he wouldn't try again? Mia brought her hands to Hook's chest where they curled into fists. She knew what she must do, so why was she hesitating?

A common trope from old romance films was one Mia had always disliked. The dominant male protagonist – or in some cases, antagonist – would force a kiss upon the woman. And though the woman pounded on his chest and her face skewed in anguish, her lips and the rest of her body gradually melted against him in submission, even if her fists never uncurled. Mia had always thought it cliché and unrealistic, but now, in his moment, she was shocked by how true it could be. For as Hook kissed her, she was suddenly like Scarlett O'Hara and Hook like Rhett Butler. Although she had brought her fists to Hook's chest to beat him away, she suddenly seemed to lack the will to go through with it completely. Instead, she crumpled against him and her lips melded helplessly with his.

There was something very different about the way Hook kissed her from the way Peter kissed her. Peter's kisses were that of an overzealous teenager. Every time his lips smashed against hers, it was like they were in a desperate hurry to claim them, as if he didn't do it soon, then her lips might simply run away. Hook's kisses were deeper, slower, much more thorough. He kissed her like a man savoring a delicious desert. His kisses rocked her straight to core, and in the moments they parted for breath, she could still feel her lips tingling from his kiss. Mia was again reminded of "Gone With The Wind"– in particular, a line spoken by Rhett.

_"None of the fools you've ever known of have kissed you like this, have they?"_

That line was particularly evocative where she and Hook were concerned. Peter had never kissed her like this, nor Flynn, for that matter.

Hook pressed her against the chaise lounge, relentless in his pursuit of her lips. Mia's hands grasped the lapels of his captain's jacket as she pressed her lips back against his with an almost violent passion. But finally, she tore her lips from his, gasping for breath. Undeterred, Hook buried his lips against the side of her neck, trailing kisses along her skin from shoulder to jaw, up towards her ear. His hot breath caressed her skin and his facial hair tickled her in an almost pleasant sort of way. Another new experience. Nonetheless, she must try and resist.

"Please," she begged. "I c-can't do this." She writhed against him and reluctantly, Hook ceased his ministrations. He pulled his face away from her neck so they could gaze into one another's eyes.

"Mia," he said huskily. "Why resist? I could make you feel such incredible pleasures if you simply... succumbed."

Oh, such words! Many people didn't know the power words could hold. As an aspiring writer, Mia knew. And it seemed Hook was, in a way, cut from the same cloth. He certainly knew what powers words held, and he used them to his advantage. _Incredible pleasures_ and _succumb_... Such deep, penetrating, naughty, impactful words! They sent a hot shiver down Mia's spine and wracked her body with trembles.

Before Mia could think of an appropriate response – _'No' is a good one for starters,_ her cynical conscience admonished her – his lips found hers again, and Mia was drowning in their sweetness. Peter never made her feel like this. With Peter, it felt nice. But this... this felt incredible, but in a way that felt so wrong. With Hook, it felt naughty. She felt corrupted.

_Then why are you letting him do it?_ her conscience admonished. _Sure, he may be stronger than you, it may be futile, but why aren't you at least_ trying _to fight? Why are you engaging?_

_Perhaps I'm trying to distract myself from the painful heartbreak rendered by Peter._

A phrase echoed this thought – _Nothing so easy as catching a heart on the rebound._

Who had said that? A British poet from the 17 or 1800s, wasn't it? Mary Russel Mitford, perhaps. Oh, how terribly relevant that was right now.Mia's heart was on the rebound, and Hook was the thief out to steal it. And as a pirate, his credentials were assured. It wasn't any wonder she was having trouble resisting.

_But do you really want Captain Hook of all people to be the rebound guy?_

It was this thought that gave Mia the strength to shove him away.

"C-Captain! P-Please!"

Hook frowned, looking annoyed. "Still resistant, are you, Mia? Still won't submit to the whims of your body? You're far too hampered between your capricious ideas of right and wrong, good versus evil, that you refuse your own most basic needs." He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "After today's dreadful disappointment, I'd think you'd long for a man who understands the heart of a young woman and knows his way around a young woman's body. You've realized the truth, my dear. Pan is naught but a boy in a man's body. He doesn't know what it is to _truly_ make a woman's body tense and arch with real ecstasy." Hook leaned in close, his lips hovering over hers once more. "Give up, Mia. Give in... to a _real_ man."

He pressed forward again but stopped just short of her lips. His brow furrowed and he drew back from her. Mia cringed as he reached up with his hook and caught a stray tear which she'd been unable to hold back.

"Again with the tears," he murmured, shaking his head. "Is it the intensity of my passion that causes you to cry, or are you still on about that damn boy?"

"B-Both," Mia mumbled, lowering her head.

With a heavy sigh, Hook rose to his feet. "Very well," he said wearily.

Looking sulky, he brushed his hair out of his face and took a bottle of port from his cabinet. He poured it into a glass and took a long sip.

Mia tilted her head, confused. "Y-You aren't going to..."

"Force myself on you?" asked Hook, lowering his glass and glancing at her with a raised eyebrow.

Mia chewed her lip and nodded slowly.

The captain's expression was stern but otherwise unreadable. "That may be the way of most pirates, Miss Baxter. But it is not _my_ way. It is bad form." He set down his glass and returned to her, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. "I will not violate you, Miss Baxter. I take _far_ more pleasure in the act of passion when the woman involved desires me."

Mia's lips parted in surprise. She didn't know what to say. Was Hook more of a gentleman than she'd given him credit for?

"However..." he said, taking a gentle grasp of her chin and tilting her face up to look at him. "Don't think you're quite safe from me yet, precious. My powers of seduction are formidable. You'd do well not to underestimate them. In time, you _will_ be mine. And most delicious of all..." His lips curled into a wicked grin which Mia was horrified to discover she found quite appealing. "You will _want_ to be mine."

He released her and walked away. Mia drew in a shaky breath. Her heart was positively pounding.

_I must not let that happen. I have to resist him at all costs._

"It may interest you to know there is still a chance the boy could show," said Hook with his back to her.

Mia was caught off guard by this statement. She rose to her feet, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

"He might still come? Do you really think so?"

"It's possible he may merely be delayed," replied Hook, and Mia got the distinct impression that it pained him to offer her this hope. Despite the irritation it caused him, it seemed Hook was doing his best to comfort and reassure her. In that moment, her estimation of him grew a little.

"I have my ways of finding out," he said as he moved to a corner of his cabin where a peculiar object was hidden beneath a dark scarlet sheet. "You see, I have a contact on Neverland, a shipmate playing spy, if you will. He keeps tabs on all the goings-on in Neverland while I'm away."

Hook removed the sheet, revealing a large birdcage. Curious, Mia bent forward, tilting her head to examine its occupant. What she saw made her scream and jump back. The shape and size of the bird's body, the downwards curving beak, and the long tail feathers were indicative of a parrot, but this was unlike any parrot Mia had ever seen. Its plumage was not colorful, but, rather, an inky black, like that of a crow or a raven, and its eyes were pools of glowing green.

"W-What the hell _is_ that? Is that really a parrot? It's super creepy! Oh my God! Are its eyes _glowing_?"

"This, dear girl, is how I contact my spy." Clearing his throat, Hook spoke directly to the parrot. "Billie Howe... Do you hear me, Mr. Howe?"

A moment passed. The parrot tilted its head this way and that before it opened its beak and a voice emerged that was not at all parrot-y, but that of a man.

"Crystal clear, Cap'n. I've been keepin' a close eye on Tiger Lily's tribe, jus' as you ordered, sir."

Mia gasped and thoughtlessly grabbed Hook's arm as she gazed in awe and horror as Hook and his spy carried on a conversation through the demonic-looking bird.

"Belay that, Mr. Howe. I have a new task for you."

"Aye, sir?" came the man's gruff voice. "What be your orders?"

"I want you to search the island for Peter Pan."

"Pan, sir?"

"Yes. Find Pan. Do not under any circumstances engage him. I simply want you to watch him, see what he's doing. I would like you to see if he's engrossed on some inane adventure or if he's planning a rescue mission."

"A rescue mission, sir?"

"Yes, a rescue mission. Keep watch on him. I'll contact you first thing tomorrow morning. I expect you to have something to share with me then. Do you understand, Mr. Howe?"

After a moment, Billie Howe's voice replied once more through the parrot's beak. "Aye-aye, Cap'n."

"Very good, Mr. Howe. Hook out." With that, Hook tossed the sheet back over the parrot's cage.

"Dear God," Mia proclaimed, unaware that she still had a death grip on Hook's arm. "That's... that's amazing... and horrifying! How can you keep that awful thing in your cabin? There's no way I can sleep tonight knowing that thing's in here!"

Hook chuckled. "Never you worry, dear Mia. That sheet will keep it from being active. It won't move. It won't make a solitary sound. Unless I uncover it. The parrot will cause you no harm. You have my word." He glanced down at his arm which Mia was still clinging so desperately to. "Now, if you wouldn't mind letting me go..." He reached up with his other arm and gently caressed her check, trailing a finger along her jaw. "That is, unless you wish to stay so close."

The girl's face brightened to a pretty shade of pink. For a moment, there was an unbidden part of her that _did_ want to stay close, and she was horrified by the curious desire. But the feeling passed soon enough and she released his arm and backed away, embarrassed.

"S-So what happens now?" she asked.

"Now?" Hook glanced out the window at the evening sky. "Suppertime, I think. Unless, of course, you'd like to skip straight to dessert." He quirked an eyebrow and smirked at her. Mia glared back at him. He was teasing her again.

"No thanks," she said dryly.

Hook gave a shrug which seemed to say, _Suit yourself._ Then, he opened the door to his cabin and bellowed, "SMEE!"

Mia winced. This was an all too common occurrence. She wished Hook had a better way of communicating his demands to his bosun, but somehow it was always effective. Mr. Smee always came on the double and always seemed to anticipate his captain's desires before he articulated them.

Sure enough, moments later the bumbling bosun entered the cabin, pushing a small cart with covered plates and began setting the table.

"Sorry for the delay, Cap'n, but methinks you'll like what cookie's prepared for yeh."

"Do have a seat, Miss Baxter," said Hook, pulling out a chair.

Mia obediently took a seat. Once she was settled, Hook doffed his coat and hung it on the back of his chair and took a seat across from her.

"After the day we've had, I think we could use a few extra comforts, my dear, don't you?"

Mia wasn't sure what he meant, but it soon became clear as Smee lifted the lids off the plates and a very rich dinner greeted her. Plates of steaming lobster tails on a bed of rice smothered in a creamy, delicious-smelling sauce were placed in front of them. There were also bowls of chowder, potato cakes, and pudding for desert.

"And apples for the young lady," said Mr. Smee, taking the lid off a small bowl of bright red apples. "Compliments o' the cook, 'imself."

Hook lifted an eyebrow, his wine glass hovering at his lips. "It would seem you've made your share of friends while aboard my ship, Miss Baxter."

"Maybe a few."

"You sell yourself short, dear. The ability to make allies with such ease is the mark of a great leader."

"A great leader?" asked Mia skeptically as Smee poured her a glass of port. "Not really. I'm more of the stand-and-cheer-on-the-sidelines sort of person."

"Nonsense," scoffed Hook. "You possess a natural charisma, my dear. You merely lack the confidence to apply it to your advantage."

_Confidence, huh?_ thought Mia as she lifted her glass and took a sniff. Hook wasn't the first one to tell her she needed to have more confidence.

Mia took a tentative sip of her drink. She'd never had port before. To her surprise, it was quite delicious. Far better than champagne. She began to drink more greedily until Hook stopped her.

"Easy, my dear," he said. "Have some dinner. If you drink that all at once, I'll be the one prying _you_ off of me. And that's best-case scenario. Worst case, poor Mr. Smee will be having to mop up the inevitable mess you'd leave on the floor and you'll go to bed with a splitting headache."

None of those sounded particularly appealing, though Mia thought Hook was being rather arrogant to assume a little inebriation would be enough to have her hanging all over him. Nevertheless, she took his advice and set the glass aside so she could eat. Supper was delicious, and strangely enough, quite pleasant. Conversation was of a lighthearted nature, and when they had finished, Mia felt oddly satisfied. Perhaps it was a combination of knowing there was still a chance Peter might come for her combined with the realization that Hook didn't intend to force himself on her that put her at ease.

As twilight fell, the oil lamps in the cabin were lit and the table was cleared. Mia and Hook were left to their own devices. Hook sat at his charting table, pouring over his maps. Perhaps he was charting a new course in case Peter didn't show tomorrow – _Don't think that_ – or for after he defeated Peter – _Don't think that either!_

Mia, meanwhile, was reclining on the chaise lounge with her sketchbook resting against her thighs, sketching a picture of the back of the cabin, the hanging lamps and the large windows framed by red curtains. She felt strangely relaxed simply coexisting with Hook in this manner. She sensed no immediate danger from him in this moment, and so long as she held onto the belief that Peter would surely come tomorrow and didn't allow her mind to stray to doubts and fears as to whether he'd make it through the battle with Hook alive, she was able to maintain this tranquil state.

She did not realize that Hook had gotten up from his charting table until a shadow loomed over her sketchbook. Mia tensed, anticipating the worst.

"It does me good to see you working so diligently at your hobby in spite of the less than desirable circumstances in which you find yourself. My men have grown very fond of the portraits you've drawn of them, and you've done an excellent capture of my inner sanctum," he said, making an expansive gesture with his arm, indicating the cabin. "Though, there is one particular subject I don't believe I've seen you attempt a single drawing of."

Mia gazed up at him questioningly.

"That, my dear, would be me," he said with a small bow.

"W-Well... I... I suppose I could do a sketch of you, if you'd like."

Truth be told, she was rather intimidated to attempt it, afraid that she wouldn't do the notorious captain in all his fearsome beauty justice. Thoughtlessly, she admitted this to him. Her faux pa in discretion placed a large grin on his face, which was both conceited and devilishly handsome. Doing her best to ignore it, Mia plunged on, speaking with all the authority of an art instructor or a real portraitist.

"I think it would be easier for me to sketch you in your natural habitat," she said. "It might put us a little more at ease."

It would certainly put _her_ more at ease not to have those burning blue eyes gazing so intensely at her as she drew him, but this she did _not_ admit to him.

"I don't believe I've seen you truly relaxed since you brought me aboard. What do you do to wind down in the evenings? I mean... _do_ you wind down?"

"Winding down?" he asked with that quirk of his eyebrow which was now becoming so familiar to her. "You wish me to relax?"

"Well, yeah."

Hook's expression softened. "Yes... winding down _could_ do me well, after all."

He crossed the room to his harpsichord, slid out the wooden bench, and took a seat. " _This_ , my dear, is how I wind down," said Hook.

With an elegant flourish of the ruffled sleeves of his frilled Victorian cravat shirt, he began to play. The fingers of his left hand were long and elegant, dexterous and fluid. And yet his ability to play was not at all hampered by his affliction. His hook ran across the keys as well, alternately striking the ivories with the curve and the point.

He really seemed to be in his element like this. His head slowly moved from side to side in rhythm with the music, his long wavy hair swaying fluidly. His fingers caressed the keys as they would the skin of a lover. The hook followed, somehow keeping up with his skilled digits. Mia was fascinated, and although she was supposed to be sketching him, she drew closer with her sketchbook tucked beneath one arm.

"Wow," she murmured as she watched him play, barely realizing that she'd come to stand right beside him. "You don't allow it to hinder you at all, do you?"

"Should I? It is a part of me, and has been for quite a long time. In time, it became just as useful to me as my own hand."

Mia continued to watch, entranced by his fingers and hook as they tickled the ivories, and even more entranced by the way his long hair swayed prettily as he played.

Hook glanced at her, smiling. "Is this what you imagined, Mia, when thinking of Hook in repose?"

Embarrassed and annoyed that he'd caught her staring, Mia shook the blush from her face and adopted a terse expression. The fact that he assumed she bothered to imagine him in _any_ way was just so... so arrogant!

"I can't honestly say I ever imagined it," she said shortly. "And I wish you wouldn't speak of yourself in the third person. It's vexing."

Hook merely chuckled, but he stopped playing the moment he felt her fingers in his hair.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she said quickly. "I'm just prepping you... That is, if you don't mind."

"Mmm... Not at all," he replied, closing his eyes as he continued to play.

Mia draped a couple tendrils over his shoulder and allowed the rest to slide through her fingers and down his back. Oh, it was so soft! Such luxurious black silk! Mia's fingers lingered in his hair, perhaps longer than necessary before she withdrew, flushing embarrassedly. She grabbed a lantern from the map table and brought it closer to the harpsichord, adjusting the level of the flame for optimal lighting.

Satisfied, Mia returned to the chaise lounge. But first she doffed her dress, revealing the dainty white chemise beneath. Yes, this was far more comfortable than that stuffy Victorian gown. She took a seat on the lounge and opened her sketchbook.

"So," she said conversationally, "Why the harpsichord?"

At her question, Hook glanced up and saw her curled up on the lounge in nothing but the chemise. His fingers faltered on the keys and a couple notes went flat.

"No, no. Don't look at me," she added hastily. "I want it to look natural. You don't have to look at me while you talk. I promise I'm listening."

With a little shake of his head, Hook collected himself and continued to play where he'd left off.

"Why the harpsichord, you ask? Well, why any instrument? Why play music at all? Or, in your case, why sketch? Why create art? Because it helps us unleash our innermost feelings through other means than just words. It helps us escape the hardships of the real world around us. We simply lose ourselves in our hobbies... and sometimes... some of us don't wish to return to what's real."

Mia paused in her sketching. What a profound thing to say. Who would've known that Captain Hook could wax so philosophical? She wondered what hardships he faced in his life that made him wish to seek an escape within the melodies of his harpsichord. Was it just the loss of his hand that made him feel this way? His rivalry with Peter? Somehow, while unpleasant, those things didn't seem quite bad enough.

"My interest in the harpsichord began at a young age," he continued. "It was the one thing that made my mother smile."

Mia's pencil slipped from her hand. "Your... your mother?"

Regaining her composure, for she had not expected him to say something like this, Mia continued her sketch.

"Captain Hook, I'm starting to believe you are not the one-dimensional character I pegged you for," she mused. "It seems you have a backstory after all. I only fear it must be tragic."

Hook cocked an eyebrow, as was his trademark. Here now was the girl who'd won Pan's affections – the writer. Two halves of the same coin, Mia. Both writer and artist. And now, whilst she sketched, she spoke as though he, the notorious Captain James Hook, was a character in an engaging story, one in which, perhaps, she fancied herself an authority. The girl had such a curious way of speaking.

"Could you tell me about your mother, or is that too personal? From the way you talk, I assume she's... she's not around anymore, is she?"

Hook was silent for an unnaturally long time before he replied. When he did, the harpsichord's melody had taken on a more somber tune.

"Yes... My dear mother is long deceased at this point. But she was the one who encouraged me to take up the harpsichord, to even seek out a career as a musician. However, that is not the way my destiny turned... as we can plainly see."

Mia felt so horribly sorry for him, and yet the somber melody combined with the expression on his face was so deep, so melancholy, so vastly different than his default that it was making for a positively beautiful sketch.

"When my mother was lost, so too was my desire to play. I didn't play the harpsichord for a very long time after that... until this one came into my possession."

"I'm sorry," Mia said softly. "I can't say whether your mother would be happy that you became a pirate with a vendetta against children, but I bet she'd be moved to tears by your playing."

This wasn't just an empty compliment, either. For, on more than one occasion, Mia had to pause in her sketching to wipe at her eyes.

"I wish my mother was as supportive as yours was. She doesn't want me to do anything with my art or writing. She's always quoting the phrase, 'starving artist,' and saying, 'With technology being what it is today, it will be far too difficult to become a successful novelist unless someone makes a film out of it.'"

Mia hardly realized how freely she was speaking with him now, and about such a personal subject, too. Perhaps it was his willingness to share so much with her and allowing her to see a bit of the humanity beneath the villain that encouraged her to open up about herself.

"Sometimes..." Mia's tone dropped and there was a hint of bitterness to it. "Sometimes I'm not sure I even like my mother."

For moment, Hook played on in pensive silence. Then, he offered his advice.

"Perhaps all the more reason to move on with your life and not look back. One mustn't allow hindrances to stand in their way. If your mother doesn't think well of you, or your craft, then be done with her. Let _nothing_ and _no one_ stand in your way, Mia." As his tone increased in fervor, so too did the melody he played.

Mia took a moment to consider Hook's words. Villain or not, he was passionately supportive of her artistic pursuits. That being the case, could he truly be such a villain? If he understood her so well, how could he be completely evil? As the harpsichord's rhythm became faster and harder, Mia's mood grew more aggressive and volatile towards her mother.

"Mom's always been very unimaginative," she scoffed derisively. "I have an inkling as to why now, after talking with my father. She intentionally represses that part of herself. I mean, whatever, right? That's _her_ deal, but that doesn't give her the right to try to suppress _me!_ And it only got worse after I dropped out of college. It's like it served as the proof she so desperately wanted and needed that I wasn't cut out for it, just so she could justify my pursuing some mundane career I had no interest in. I mean, can you believe that?"

The captain shook his head as he played. "Dreadful. Simply, dreadful, my dear."

Mia realized her pencil lead was whittling down fast. She was pressing too hard. She took a deep breath and eased up.

"In any case, you're right. I shouldn't let anyone stand in my way." Then, a little more softly, she said, "You know, watching and listening to you play the harpsichord so beautifully in spite of your... affliction... it's made me realize that I shouldn't have given up so easily. On college, I mean. Maybe I shouldn't have listened to what that nasty Lady—"

Mia stopped short. She'd almost given too much away. She mustn't mention Lady Tremaine by name.

"Er, the chair of the writing department. She nearly wrecked my entire future."

"Even the administration tried to hold you back? Brimstone and gall!" he cursed, slamming both his hand and hook on the harpsichord keys. "Dash the lot, dear Mia! This is the reason I took to piracy. While I may be a man of high breeding and intellect and hold myself to good form as a gentleman, I also came to the realization that people in 'civilized' society cannot be trusted and merely stand in the way of what you truly want."His eyes lifted to Mia as he continued to play. "It seems, my dear... that we have more in common than one would believe."

Mia blushed and lowered her gaze to her sketchbook. "Perhaps... Perhaps that's true to an extent," she admitted. "But I'm not so certain I'm entirely sold on the whole piracy thing just yet."

She frowned, momentarily contemplative. Then, shaking her head, she became all business once more.

"You're looking at me again, Captain," she said disapprovingly. "Also, I'm sorry to ask, but could you play something softer and more... I don't know... melancholy? I lost your expression a while ago, and I need it back. If you please."

Hook's gaze lingered on her a moment longer, appreciating the way she looked in her chemise. Then with a smile, he turned his gaze back to his instrument.

"I do apologize, my dear. Allow me to set the mood straight." He closed his eyes and slowed the tempo and began to lose himself to the music once more.

Mia studied him as she sketched, gazing upon his melancholy expression and the way his hair tumbled around his shoulders like a cascade of black silk. Suddenly, the idea of giving herself to him was not so unappealing. In fact, if he were to ask it of her now, Mia wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to refuse. She was shocked and frightened by the trajectory of her thoughts and wayward feelings. Mia tried to shake them from her mind. Thankfully, Hook provided just enough conversation to pull her thoughts elsewhere.

"While there is certainly merit in sport," he said, "It is the arts, culture, music, paintings, the written word... _they_ are what stimulate the mind. And to be truly strong... one must have a strong mind in addition to a strong body."

Mia nodded as she sketched. "Yes... I've always felt the same, Captain," she said dreamily.

After that, the girl adopted a an unusual but not entirely unpleasant silence. It was nice enough just being in the young lady's presence and having her sketch him. Hook fell so deeply into the music that he soon lost all track of time. When next he glanced up, the girl was fast asleep on the lounge, her sketchbook laying open on the floor beside her.

_The poor dear has dosed off._

Hook abandoned the harpsichord and approached the lounge, gazing upon his portrait. It was a masterful likeness. Flawless, even. There was no mistaking this sketch of the notorious Captain Hook. And yet... the expression she had captured on his face was one he'd never seen on himself before, nor had anyone else, for that matter. Only this girl, this artist, could have chiseled that expression out of him. It was uncanny. The drawing was a thing of beauty, but it was certainly something Hook did not want another soul to lay eyes upon.

Carefully, so as not to rip it, Hook tore the page out of the sketchbook and took one last look at it, smiling fondly. Then he rolled the paper up into a small tube and tied a red string around it before locking it in his map drawer. He returned to the chaise lounge, gazing down upon its snoozing occupant.

"You do wonderful work, my dear," he said softly. "But no one must see the side of Hook you've seen tonight."

He draped a blanket over her and gently tucked her in, careful not to wake her.

"If Pan should fail to come for you tomorrow... I'll give you a brand-new side of James Hook you never thought you'd see."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Sleep well, my dear. One way or another... you will be mine."


	30. The Seas of Heartache

It was very late at night or perhaps in the early morning hours before dawn when Mia awoke. The lanterns had burned down and the cabin was black as pitch. The only sound to be heard was Hook's snores from across the room and the waves lapping at the hull of the ship. But then, there was something else. Mia sensed movement on the other side of the cabin. Alarmed, she quickly sat up. What presence was here with them?

"C-Captain?" she said tremulously, but he continued to snore. "Hook!" she hissed. But still he did not awaken.

She heard a scream, one which sounded frighteningly familiar.

"Mom?"

How had Hook not heard that? Heart pounding, Mia walked barefoot across the cabin, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Something was very wrong. There should at least be _some_ light source, whether it be the shine of the moon or the stars coming in through the windows. But there was nothing. Nothing but a dull green glow coming from the corner of the cabin.

Tentatively, she stretched out her arm and reached towards the green light. Her fingers brushed against a sheet and it fell away, revealing the bird cage. With a furious squawk, the parrot beat its wings against the bars of the cage until it fell to the floor with a crash. The cage door broke on impact and the parrot flew out, hovering in front of Mia. She stared, as though hypnotized, into its glowing green eyes. Suddenly, she knew where she'd seen a green glow like that before.

Then, something very peculiar happened. The two glowing eyes seemed to draw together into one and the bird was no more. Instead, a single orb, like a toxic green fireball, hovered in front of her. Although Mia knew what was about to emerge from that green glow, she was frozen in place, unable to move. Slowly, the green glow expanded until it took the form of a beautiful yet terrifying woman with curving horns dressed in a cloak of pure shadow.

Mia finally found the strength to take a step back. She opened her mouth, but was so frightened that no sound emerged. When she opened her mouth a second time, another voice spoke, but it was not hers. It came from behind her.

"You!"

Mia spun around to see the Dreamfinder pointing a trembling finger at the horned figure.

"Dad?!"

What was he doing here? _How_ could he even be here? But that didn't matter. All that mattered was he was here to save her! To protect her!

"Dad! Thank God!" She ran to him, but he did not open his arms to her. In fact, he didn't even seem to see her. And most alarmingly of all, Mia ran right through him.

_What the...? Is he a ghost? Or am I?_

A second voice drowned out her thoughts, crying out into the dark cabin.

"Blair! The baby!"

Mia knew that voice, just as she had known the scream which had drawn her from the lounge. Although she glanced all about, Mia could not see her mother. But in the direction from where the voice had come stood a cradle with a tiny bundle inside. Mia approached as though in a trance. She recognized the crib all too well. But who or what would she find inside it? As Mia peered into it, she felt very foolish. What else would she find in a cradle but a sleeping baby?

Still in a trance-like state, Mia felt compelled to reach into the crib and pick up the baby. But as she leaned over the crib, the world suddenly flipped upside-down and she was falling... falling, falling, falling into the crib. She landed inside it with an echoing bang as though someone had slammed a large dungeon door shut. The baby was gone and she remained in its place inside a crib that was suddenly far bigger than it was before. The bars of the crib became like the metal bars of a cage, and as Mia scrambled to her feet, they grew taller and taller until there was no way out. She was trapped!

Mia ran to the edge of the cage and peeked out between the bars. Then she saw him – Peter! He could help her! But what was this? He was with another girl. One prettier and younger than she. He was holding the girl's hands in both of his and gazing at her in the way he had once gazed at Mia.

"Please," he said in that tone that always made Mia's heart stir. "Come to Neverland and tell us stories. You don't have to be our mother. You can be more. _So_ much more."

"Peter!" Mia cried, reaching a hand out between the bars. "Peter it's me! Please! Help!"

But her cries fell on deaf ears. He wasn't going to help her! And now he was flying out through the open window at the back of the cabin with the new storyteller, leaving Mia alone, forgotten. Mia sank to her knees and cried.

"Mia!"

Mia turned towards the source of the voice as a sword sliced through the wooden bars of her crib-cage. There stood James Hook, her rescuer.

"Captain!" She ran to him and he embraced her, taking her chin in his hand as he studied her face.

"Mia? Are you all right?"

Mia nodded, tears in her eyes. "Y-Yes. Thank you. I—"

"Good."

His tone was dark and he had a wicked gleam in his eyes as he seized her by the wrist and whirled her around to face the dark horned fairy.

"I have her, my lady!" he exclaimed, bowing deeply to Maleficent with his hand still clamped around Mia's wrist. "She is yours."

Cruel laughter erupted from those ruby lips in that alabaster face. Maleficent spread her arms wide and her black cloak became wings. Quickly she grew and elongated, her face distorting into something reptilian. The dragon grew larger and larger until her head shot through the roof of Hook's cabin, sending debris down around them. Somewhere, far away, Mia heard her mother screaming.

~~~

Just as the first light of dawn breached the windows at the back of the fully-intact cabin of the Jolly Roger, a scream pierced the silent stillness and Hook was jostled from his slumber. He shot up in bed, grabbed his detached hook in his left hand and slashed at the air.

"I'LL RUN YA THROuuh... What? What's happening?"

The girl! The girl was screaming!

Hook leapt from his bed and ran to the chaise lounge where the girl was tossing and turning. He dropped his hook and seized her shoulder in his left hand and gave her a shake.

"Mia! MIA!"

The girl gave a weak thrash before her eyes snapped open and she sat up, gasping for breath. Her skin was covered in a cold sweat. Her wide eyes found Hook's.

"Wh-Who are you? Where..." She trailed off as she glanced around the room. She was in the captain's cabin on the Jolly Roger, which was as normal as it had been the night before. No giant cages, no witches, and no dragons.

"Brimstone and gall, child! You took a year off my life!" exclaimed Hook, looking just as alarmed as she was. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Th-The bird!" cried Mia, gripping his arms, hardly noticing at the moment that one ended in a stump. "The bird was a witch, but the witch was a dragon, and Peter was there, but there was another girl, and you... y-you... you were..." She was so beside herself with fear that she could hardly complete a sentence.

"Easy, dear. Easy," said Hook, bringing a hand to her head and caressing her hair. "It was all but a foul dream. There is nothing to fear, dear one." He pressed his lips to her forehead, for once a comforting gesture rather than a seductive one. "Hush now."

With a ragged sob, Mia leaned against him and rested her head against his strong chest, her tears wetting his skin. It was then she realized he wasn't wearing anything above the waist. She drew back, her eyes wide.

"H-Hey! Y-You're not wearing a shirt!"

She quickly covered her eyes, but not before she was able to catch a glimpse of a beautifully chiseled chest and nice, toned abs.

Hook rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. As if the appearance of a man without his shirt was foreign to you. This is how I sleep as of late, Mia. I'm usually far less clothed on such hot nights, but with you here, I'm making an exception for propriety's sake. But there's a fine line between observing propriety and being a prude. And no one likes the latter, my dear."

Mia could tell he was annoyed with her. However, before anything more could be said on the matter, the covered cage in the corner of the cabin began to rattle with the frantic flapping of wings, accompanied by an agitated squawking. Mia gasped. It was just like in her dream! As Hook turned towards it, Mia seized his arm, frightened.

"Ngh! Unhand me, girl! It is merely Mr. Howe with his report! Either unhand me or come with me!"

It was then, for the first time, that Mia noticed the arm she held ended in an unsightly stump. He was not wearing his hook. She gasped and released him at once, staring at the abbreviated appendage in a mixture of awe and revulsion. The captain caught her look and his irritable expression slipped. In its place, for the briefest of moments, was a look of deep hurt, but it was gone just as quickly and he turned away from her.

Mia felt ashamed. Villain or not, Hook was still human and had feelings like anyone else. His physical wound may have healed, but she'd opened a new one for him, one of mental anguish. She may have even hurt him deeper than any literal wound could. She knew as well as any that a mean look or a cruel word could cut deeper than a knife. And to have a young woman you fancied, a young woman you wished to charm look at you the way she'd just looked at him just now...

Mia rose to her feet and reluctantly followed him to the birdcage. After all, regardless of her feelings about the thing, and regardless of her nightmare, what Billie Howe had to say was of great importance to her as well. Hook uncovered the cage, revealing the ghastly creature who resided within. At Hook's arrival, the parrot stopped squawking and beating its wings. When next it opened its mouth, it was Billie Howe's voice that came out.

"Can you hear me, Cap'n?"

"Clear as a bell, Mr. Howe."

"As per your orders, I've been watching Pan and the Lost Boys and am ready to give my report."

Mia took Hook's arm again, no longer caring about the unsightly stump, giving it a tight squeeze as she waited with baited breath. Hook glanced at her with a soft expression before turning his gaze back upon the bird.

"What have you to report?"

_Please, Peter. Please..._ Mia begged silently. _Please come for me. You couldn't have truly forgotten me, could you? Please rescue me, Peter. Please, please, please..._

The parrot tilted its head and let out a subdued squawk before Mr. Howe replied. "Pan and the Lost Boys are searchin' the island."

Relief washed over Mia like an ocean wave on a hot summer day. Peter and the boys were searching for her! He hadn't forgotten her after all! They were all searching for her! Sooner or later, he'd have to put two and two together and set out to rescue her!

Mia could feel Hook's arm muscles tense beneath her grasp. "Searching, you say? Were you able to determine what it is they're searching for?"

"They're on some sorta scavenger hunt," replied Mr. Howe. "For treasure. They've been lookin' for it for days."

The hopeful glimmer in Mia's eyes went out like a candle extinguished by a cruel breath. Scavenger hunt? Treasure? And they'd been searching for days?

_Then... Then it's true. He's forgotten me._

"For treasure you say?" asked Hook with a single raised eyebrow. "You're certain of this?"

"Aye," replied Mr. Howe. "Definitely some kinda treasure. I heard 'em talkin' about it. Not sure what treasure has Pan so obsessed, but he's _determined_ to find it."

"So... as far as you've been able to determine, Pan is not searching for a _person_ , nor making plans to leave the island?"

Hook's voice was strained. He sounded as desperate and disconsolate as Mia felt inside. But Mia had already begun to check out of the conversation. She hardly heard anything that followed as she released Hook's arm and slowly backed away from the cage in a state of semi-catatonia.

"Aye, cap'n. I'm sure of it. He's searchin' the island for treasure, not a person. No plans on leavin'. He's mighty focused on this current pursuit."

Hook cast a pitying glance at Mia as she slumped into a chair near the charting table.

"Any further orders, sir?" came Mr. Howe's voice once more.

When next Hook spoke, it was in a subdued tone. "No. Stand down, Mr. Howe. Your mission is complete. Get to the sloop. Set sail for Isla Tesoro and meet me at Puerto Dorado."

"Aye, cap'n."

With that, Hook tossed the sheet back over the parrot's cage and it was quiet once more. Mia's hands clasped the arms of the chair in a white-knuckled grip, her watery eyes gazing at the floor. Right now, she existed in a realm somewhere between devastation and catatonia.

"He's not coming for me," she murmured.

Hook turned to her. If Mia had been looking, she would have seen a strange sight, for Hook's expression was neither angry nor triumphant the way one might expect. And indeed, it would make sense for him to be angry, for he'd very much desired the opportunity to kill Peter once and for all and had just been deprived this chance; just as it would make sense for him to be triumphant in a way, because if Peter did not come, that meant there was no chance of him rescuing Mia and stealing her back. But instead, Hook's expression was one of sincere pity.

"It seems the boy has truly forgotten," he said softly. "My plan was all for naught." He sighed, his blue eyes appraising the girl. "Perhaps I was hasty to offer you hope when it seemed there was none, Mia. But I very much wished for your sake, even more than my own, that Peter would show."

Hook moved towards her, but Mia hardly seemed to notice. Tears of anger and hurt spilled down her cheeks. Childhood hero or not, Mia wasn't sure she could ever forgive Peter for what he'd done. He'd made her feel something for him, and had made her think that he felt something for her in return. He had promised to protect her, and now... now he'd completely forgotten all about her and left her at Hook's mercy.

The captain stood in front of her. With her head lowered, all Mia could see was his bare feet. Slowly, her gaze traveled up his form-fitting breeches to the toned musculature of his bare torso, attractive in spite of battle scars, all the way up into those eyes of forget-me-not blue.

"It would seem you are Pan's no longer. He has forfeited his claim on you."

Mia averted her gaze. "I never belonged to Pan," she said through clenched teeth as more tears fell. "I don't belong to anyone. And I never will again."

Hook crouched down in front of her and placed two fingers beneath her chin. He turned her face so they were eye to eye.

"My poor girl... That foolish boy has hurt you deeply, and it seems he's left me to pick up the pieces of your broken heart."

"That's an impossible responsibility you've tasked yourself with," she said stubbornly. "It's not that easy. Besides, you're one of the Dark Ones, and I'm—"

Oops. She'd almost slipped. How could she be so clumsy? So foolish? She quickly corrected.

"I'm from Cerenopia. I align myself with forces of good, with Princess Cynthia and the Allied Kingdoms. Ideologically, we're an improper match. I could never submit to you." She shook her head and more tears spilled down her cheeks. "I won't."

Hook made an irritated sound in the back of his throat as he returned to his bedside to grab the leather harness that attached the hook to his right arm.

"The Dark Ones," he scoffed as he put on his harness. "As if it's some sort of official group. You make it sound so simple. As if I attend weekly group meetings, wear club blazers and then meet down at the pub for drinks afterwards." This last sentence ended in a grunt as he secured and tightened the straps of the harness. "I don't know what you may have heard, but it's nothing like that."

"But you _are_ one of them, are you not?" Mia asked in a streak of boldness. "Any way you slice it, you're a bad guy. How many people would argue that? Or do Dizgaia's most notorious not acknowledge their status as villains?"

The captain arched an eyebrow as he secured his hook to the metal contrivance at the end of his arm and fastened it into place with a loud click. The girl addressed the villains of Dizgaia as though from an outsider's point of view. It was curious, to say the least. But regardless of the girl's peculiarities and idiosyncrasies of speech, he had other things on his mind.

"They say opposites attract, my dear," he said as he returned to where she sat. "Two people with differing ideologies can make strong connections in other ways. Besides, from what I've seen, we are more alike than you let on. After all, we both have a strong affinity for the arts, for pursuits of the creative mind."

Mia lowered her gaze. It wasn't that she hadn't noticed. And there was a part of her that was tempted to like him because of it. Nonetheless, she knew what he was and what it meant to be at his mercy. He was like an approaching storm – dark and turbulent – and she an innocent little sparrow caught in his gale. A dangerous situation indeed.

"And..." he said, cutting into her thoughts. "We share a bond on another front." His steel namesake came just under her chin, gently tilting it up so she was once more gazing into those blue eyes, burning with such passion. "Emotional torment, my dear. I see it in you. There's no sense in hiding it."

His words only served to bring more tears to her eyes. "That's not fair," she said softly. "You know I'm vulnerable and you use it to your advantage. You're playing dirty."

Hook leaned down, his face coming within inches of her own. "I suppose I am, love. But in the game of piracy – or maybe the game of villainy, if you prefer – sometimes playing dirty is the only way to get what you want."

His lips were an inch away from hers. Tempted as she was to indulge in them and to bury her frustration and sorrow in the sweet kisses of a man who desired her, Mia turned her face away. Undeterred, Hook brought his hand to the side of her head and gently stroked her hair.

"You need to realize the truth, my dear Mia. We are both rife with pain. Full of hurt feelings and rocky emotions. The one difference is that I've been living with mine for a much longer time than you have. The emotional strife... it doesn't have to keep hurting, especially when you have someone to share the load with you."

Mia gazed at him, her eyes shimmering with unfallen tears. Her lower lip trembled. She was tempted to nuzzle her cheek against his large palm, but she knew it unwise to show such weakness. And yet that hand, his _only_ hand, was so warm, so gentle, so inviting.

"The first heartache always hurts the deepest," he said quietly, "But if you accept my offer, I can promise that you will never have a second one."

Mia's wide gaze was filled with those blue forget-me-nots. She couldn't look away. She was practically drowning in them. But as more tears filled her eyes, her vision blurred and she once more found the strength to look away.

"Please... just... just let me be. I want to be alone."

Hook was silent for a long time. At first, Mia feared she'd angered him and that he'd attack her in a lust-filled rage at any moment. But instead...

"Very well," he sighed, walking away from her.

For the second time, Mia was shocked by his acquiescence. It was as he had said last night – his attempts at seduction may continue, but he would not force himself on her. Somehow, this endeared him to her more. Mia was shocked to discover feelings of both relief _and_ disappointment at war with one another deep inside her. When next she dared to look, he was putting on his shirt and captain's coat.

"Now that I know Peter will not be joining us, I must move things along," he said as he donned his cross -belt and scabbard which held his elegant silver rapier. "I must issue the order to the crew to make haste for Isla Tesoro."

Mia did not ask what Isla Tesoro was. Her mind had drifted back to the more unappealing aspects of the dangerous situation in which she found herself and Peter's hurtful betrayal. The tears returned to her eyes, but she did not let them fall.

Hook reappeared before her, fully dressed and looking as debonair and formidable as ever. "I will give you time to grieve," he said in a grave, businesslike tone. "We will arrive at Isla Tesaro in four days' time. By then, I expect you to be over the worst of it and accompany me onto the island..." He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head to his. " _And_ to give me a chance to prove to you that I can end your suffering."

With one last burning look, he departed. The door slammed shut behind him.

Alone in the cabin, Mia rose to her feet, aiming a glare at the closed door. Lips trembling, tears welling in her eyes, she threw herself face-down onto the captain's bed and sobbed into his pillow. It was there she remained for the rest of the day, and thusly he found her when he returned that evening.

The girl was inconsolable. Through threats alone, Hook managed to get her to eat an apple and drink some water, but no more would she consume. She was heartsick and without appetite. Moreover, she seemed content to claim his bed for her own.

"Do you really wish to share my bed with me, Miss Baxter?" he asked her that night as he went about his pre-bedtime ritual of doffing his coat and shirt and having himself a nightcap as he studied his maps and updated his captain's log.

The girl said nothing. She merely continued to sniffle into his pillow. Hook drained his glass in one draught and went to the bedside.

"Mia."

The girl ignored him and continued to cry. This was getting tiresome.

"Mia, if you share my bed tonight, the temptation will be too great and I may not be able to help myself."

He saw the girl's body stiffen. Her cries paused for the briefest of moments. Then, the waterworks returned, and still she kept her face hidden from him.

"Very well, then."

Mia tensed, expecting him to crawl into bed with her, praying that he wouldn't do anything untoward. To her surprise, he merely draped a blanket over her. And when she mustered up the courage to peek, she saw him blowing out the lanterns and settling himself onto the chaise lounge.

~~~

Thus followed the longest, dreariest four days of Mia's life. She stayed in bed except for mealtimes – at Hook's insistence – and spent most of her time crying. The rocking of the ship, which she'd once found soothing, was now making her sick, and she'd not bothered to brush her hair or put on proper clothes. Even when dining with Hook in his cabin, she still wore her chemise, which earned her a few chuckled asides from Smee, but if Hook disapproved of the way she was spending her time, he gave no indication.

At nights, it was as always. According to new ritual, Hook draped a blanket over her and wordlessly settled himself onto the chaise lounge. Though sometimes, late at night, when Mia was wracked with sobs and nightmares and uncontrollable weepiness, she could almost swear she felt a warm body beside her and an arm wrapped protectively around her. She could never be certain, for in these moments she was also half asleep, but she often thought she heard someone humming a deep, soothing tune. She caught familiar snippets of sea shanties that only a girl with the most eclectic taste in music would know, a girl who loved her share of swashbuckling tales, and they lulled her into a deeper, easier sleep. But each time she awoke, the morning sun was shining through the cabin windows and she was quite alone, leaving her wondering if she might have dreamed the whole thing.

At the end of the four days, they had come within sight of Isla Tesoro. Hook hoped that perhaps Mia might stow her emotional moping long enough to emerge from the cabin and have a look at what lay ahead, but she never did. He was greatly disappointed, but what else should he have expected? The girl was heartsick, and there was no easy cure for such an illness. But be damned if he wasn't going to try!

The following day, when the Jolly Roger had reached the island's shore, Hook strode into his cabin with purpose. As usual, the girl was lying in his bed with her face buried in his pillow. All signs pointed to her having been crying again. Hook closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled slowly through his nose.

"Mia... We have arrived at Isla Tesoro. I would like you to get dressed and accompany me. Please." It took him great effort to speak with such patience and politeness, for he was a ship's captain and used to spouting orders and having them obeyed unquestioningly.

Mia sat up, fixing him with a wet glare. "Why is this so important? Unless it's Cerenopia out there, I don't see any reason for me to go anywhere with you."

Hook opened his mouth to admonish her for her insubordination, but she rose to her feet, grumbling.

"But fine. Only because I know you're gonna force me if I don't." The girl hastily pulled the dress he'd given her over her chemise, mussing her already disheveled hair in the process. "There," she said. "Are you happy now? Because I'm not. I just want to be left alone and sleep until I die. Is that too much to ask?"

Hook's eyes narrowed at her flippant response. He seized her by the arm and dragged her across the cabin to his wardrobe.

"I grow tired of your teenage angst, Miss Baxter. It's time you learned to live again. Your storyteller's heart seeks adventure, does it not? Well, today you shall have it, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Now then..."

He opened one of the doors to his wardrobe, revealing a hidden mirror. He drew up a chair and indicated that she should sit. Mia did so, begrudgingly. From inside a drawer, Hook withdrew a dainty silver box. Mia was curious that Hook should possess such a thing, for it suited neither a gentleman nor a pirate. Hook set it on top of the wardrobe and opened it. A soft tinkling could be heard, like that of a music box. From inside, he took out a brush whose handle was of the same dainty silver pattern as the box.

To Mia's surprise, Hook began to brush her hair. She winced as he tugged out a couple knots, but gradually he began to tame her wild mane.

"You needn't put up such a fuss," he said. "I only wish for you to come with me and enjoy yourself a little. And for that, I need you to look presentable."

Mia glared at their reflections in the mirror. "Why? So you can show off your prize? Besides, you kidnapped me, and Peter doesn't care enough to remember me or rescue me. How am I supposed to enjoy myself?"

"I will admit, Mia... Originally, I kidnapped you in the hopes of luring Pan to his doom. However, I took a fascinated interest in you the very first moment I laid eyes on you. One that has continued to grow and develop. Circumstances have proceeded beyond their original intentions, my dear."

He continued to brush her hair. There was an unexpected tenderness in his actions, and Mia gradually began to calm. In fact, the more he brushed her hair, the more relaxed she became, almost languid. When she was a child, Mia's mother had done this for her every night to help her sleep. At this memory of her mother, Mia felt a brief sting of remorse, but she was brought back to the present when Hook gathered her hair into the curve of his hook and took a lovely gem-encrusted barrette out of the box and clipped her hair back with it.

"How did you do that?" Mia asked, in awe of his dexterity.

"Years of practice," he replied with a tender smile as he placed the brush back in its silver box.

Mia couldn't help but notice the soft expression on his face as he tucked the box into the drawer from whence it came. At first, she had wondered where exactly he had acquired such pretty little trinkets, but with that look on his face, it was easy enough to guess they must have once belonged to his mother. With this realization, Mia decided to be a little less harsh towards him... at least for the time being.

"There," he said, admiring his handiwork. "Now we can go ashore." He offered her his arm and Mia took it without protest.

Hook escorted her out of his cabin, gentleman-and-lady style. Mia noticed he had altered his ensemble today. Instead of his usual red coat with gold accents, he was wearing black and gold. His hat was similarly styled – black with gold embroidery. The white plume, of course, remained. It almost seemed like he was hoping to draw attention to himself. It wasn't any wonder he wanted her to look so lovely. In anything less, she'd look silly at the side of such a debonair captain.

As they crossed the deck, Mia was greeted by a beautiful Mediterranean-looking coastline. The Jolly Roger had docked at the bustling harbor of a small port town. Putting a hand to her forehead to block out the sun, Mia squinted her eyes for a better look. The town's architecture was reminiscent of the Spanish style on Earth, and at the furthest-most point in town stood a large Spanish fort. All of it, down to the last detail, looked like it could easily be the setting for a familiar ride back in Disney World.

Hook made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Welcome to Isla Tesoro, an independent island and a safe harbor for scallywags, home to the town of Puerto Dorado. In other words," he said with a gleam in his eyes, "Welcome to pirate town, Miss Baxter."


	31. Isla Tesoro

"A pirate town? Hook... I can't go to a pirate town! It's dangerous!"

"Nonsense, my dear. No harm shall come to you here so long as you are at my side. Besides, you cannot deny what I have seen for myself."

"And what's that?" she asked.

With a single finger placed beneath her chin, Hook tilted Mia's face to look at him. "The light of adventure in your eyes. You are curious; excited. You crave exploration and adventure. Is that not true?"

Mia chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Well, I won't lie... It _is_ kind of exciting."

"Then bask in the feeling, dear Mia. And trust that I will protect you." Hook offered her a debonair smile before making his final announcement to the crew. "Hear this! Your shore leave begins now, men. Those of you I've selected to remain behind as a skeleton crew keep a weather eye until the others return. The rest of you know when to relieve the others. If I hear any man's overstayed his welcome on shore and neglected his duties, I'll have him strung upside-down from the highest yardarm for the remainder of our stay!"

"Good God," murmured Mia.

Hook glanced down at her with an amused expression. "You've got to take a firm hand with these reprobates, my dear, or else they'll take advantage of any generosity granted them."

There was a rush of bodies for the gangplank and much hooting and hollering as though the largest, hairiest elementary school class had just let out for recess. Men shoved one another off the side of the gangplank in the effort to get to shore first.

Hook closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache. "Degenerates," he muttered. "It'll be nice to have some time away." Then, breaking the illusion of an encroaching headache, he shouted, "MISTER SMEE!"

Mia jumped. One would think she'd have gotten used to that by now.

Smee stopped in his tracks just as he was about to step onto the gangplank. Slowly, he turned back.

"Aye, Cap'n? Anythin' I c'n do fer ya?"

"Smee, round up a few men and gather up supplies - food, ammunition, repairs, anything we need. You _do_ have that list I gave you?" he asked dangerously.

"Oh! Aye, Cap'n. I gots the list right here!" Smee took a rolled-up piece of parchment out of his pocket to show the captain, only for it to unfold as the wind snatched it out of his hand. He fumbled for it and managed to catch it just before it could blow out to sea.

Hook rolled his eyes to the heavens as though silently beseeching some deity to grant him the strength to deal with the incompetents around him. Mia covered her mouth as she snorted back laughter.

"Do _not_ lose that list. Also, if you should happen to come across Billie Howe, ensure that he receives an extra wage for his work as my spy."

Smee nodded vigorously. "Aye, Cap'n. Mr. Howe is clever lad. I knew he would be. Why, I remember when we was first-"

"GET A MOVE ON, SMEE!"

Smee hopped to and hurried down the gangplank. With a sigh, Hook turned to Mia, putting on a handsome smile. "Shall we, then?"

Reluctantly, Mia took his arm. "Couldn't we have gone somewhere exotic and less... dangerous?"

"I'm afraid not, dear," he replied as he walked her down the gangplank. "You so easily forget. There are very few safe harbors for us to dock. I am certainly not a welcome sight in any of the Allied Kingdoms. But you'll no doubt be reassured to know that while Puerto Dorado may not be under Allied Kingdom law, it is also not under any influence from my fellow _Dark Ones,_ as you've so confidently named us. Which means it's one of the only places I can go where I don't feel like I have to be 'at work.'"

"All dressed up and nowhere to go," she mused. "And _this_ is the type of life you'd have me lead as your consort?" Mia flushed at her own words. She had been trying to make a point. She hadn't intended to make Hook grin the way he was now. Mia averted her gaze, annoyed with herself.

Hook, however, was polite enough not to gloat. Watching her react to her own comment was plenty enough for him. "Besides," he said, "I wouldn't be able to find the goods I intend to procure on some remote tropical island. You'll find, Mia, that Puerto Dorado has much to offer. Yes, even for a proper young lady like yourself," he added at the skeptical look on her face.

As they walked past the docks, Mia saw rowdy sailors swarming the town, laughing, singing, and carrying on, each with a bottle of rum in hand. These men were here to do anything they damn well pleased. On the edge of town, bawdy women stood in the doorways of small adobe houses, beckoning with giggles and curling fingers. The men grabbed them and hoisted them over their shoulders. In a flurry of skirts, they were carried into the houses, the doors slamming shut behind them. Mia could hear the sounds of their debauchery from the open upstairs windows. 

Hook tightened his grip on Mia's arm. Mia didn't protest. She walked closer to him as they followed the cobblestone road into town proper. "It would be best for you to stay close," he advised in a soft undertone. "I am confident you will find things in this town that tickle your fancy, but you are right to assume this place isn't without its dangers. But so long as you do not wander off, you'll be safe." His tone and expression briefly darkened. "No one would dare touch that which belongs to Hook."

Mia opened her mouth to protest, but he swiftly cut her off.

"Before you go spouting the cliché 'I don't belong to anyone,' speech, consider at least playing the role of my consort for the time being. It is in your best interests, Mia."

Mia sighed. "Aye," she replied.

Hook gave her an amused smile as he led her through the town. Compared to all the modern technology Mia had witnessed back in Epcot, this place looked like it was lost in time. It was like something right out of the golden age of piracy! They even dressed the part! In spite of the dangers, Mia couldn't help feeling a little excited.

They walked past businesses, pubs, and modest Spanish-style cottages, all teeming with life. And from the look of it, it wasn't just pirates who resided here, though there were plenty.

When Mia questioned him about it, Hook replied, "No, it isn't just pirates. There are landowners, business proprietors, and merchants here as well; though no one would consider them respectable folk. After all, they associate and do business with pirates. It doesn't matter who you are. These people will gladly sell food, drink, and wares to anyone from a wealthy contessa to the lowliest and foulest of buccaneers. It truly is a neutral island." He glanced down at her with a warning look. "Though, I wouldn't go boasting about being from Cerenopia, if I were you. The Allied Kingdoms are not viewed fondly in this lawless country."

Mia nodded gravely. The risks were more than evident. Nevertheless, just as anxiety roiled within her, so too was there a delightful rush of adrenaline and a thrill of excitement which could not be ignored.

They must have been quite the sight, strolling arm and arm through the pirate town - the captain, dapperly dressed in his finest coat with a curious young woman by his side, who was dressed far more respectably than most of the townswomen, save for her bare feet. Much of the chaos had died down when they neared the center of town. A hush fell over the street and everyone stared at them. As they passed, Mia heard folks speaking in loud whispers.

"Hook! It's Hook!"

Everyone in town knew who he was. There appeared to be two types of people; those who stopped in the street to gape at him, and those who ran, screaming at the sight of him. Of the gawkers, several raised their fists into the air and made a curled shape with their index fingers, mimicking the image of a hook as the captain walked past. An excited chant arose from the crowd as they thrust their hooked fingers into the air.

"Hook! Hook! Hook!"

"Ah, my adoring public," he said audibly, giving them each a smile and a curt nod. Then, lowering his head, he spoke to Mia in a hushed mutter. "The puling spawn, how I despise them."

"Oh yes, I'm sure it's simply awful being _so_ worshipped and adored," said Mia with a roll of her eyes.

As they continued on through the town, Hook ceased to acknowledge the people who chanted and cheered for him. He didn't even allow his eyes to flick in their direction. Mia had the feeling that he thought them beneath him. Looking at them, Mia had to agree. These scallywags had all of Hook's piratical inclinations but none of his charm or good manners. Mia doubted any of them observed good form the way Hook did.

His peers eyed him up all the more enviously at the sight of the pretty young girl on his arm. Mia could feel them leering at her, but was confident that under the circumstances she couldn't be any safer than she was at Hook's side.

The excitement and commotion continued. Above them, old women shrank back from the windows and closed the shutters, while others were thrown open as younger women gazed out, waving silken handkerchiefs and calling out to him.

"It's Captain Hook!"

"Yoo hoo! Hoooook!"

"Hook!"

Many of the women were not much to look at, which wasn't entirely surprising consider the type of lives they led, but others were quite pretty indeed, and none were shy about blowing kisses to the debonair captain as he walked the streets below.

"Hook, be a dear and blow us a kiss!"

While Hook had barely acknowledged the chanting crowd, he made an exception for the members of the fairer sex. As they greeted him, longing for him to return their affections, he offered the women a striking smile for their troubles and blew a single kiss to them from the curve of his hook. One woman pretended to catch it. Another swooned. But that was all the attention Hook paid them. He said not a word to them. Instead, he inclined his head to Mia once more and spoke quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

"The sooner we get to the shop I'm looking for, the better off we'll be. This rabble can grow quite tiresome."

"For something so tiring, you certainly seem to have no trouble pandering to them," she muttered back.

"Not once did I say I didn't enjoy it," he said with an amused shrug. "It just grows tiresome after a time, dear. Come. This way."

As they turned down the next street, they were greeted by a large brick archway with the word "Mercado" stamped in stucco. Just beyond it was a bustling thoroughfare. Vendor booths lined the streets with merchants selling goods and wares to passerby. There was everything from fruit and vegetable stalls to fishmongers, to people selling expensive fabrics and even jewelry. Mia wondered how many of these merchants had come by their wares honestly and how many had stolen them. In this town, the latter seemed far more likely.

Boisterous and aggressive, the way in which these merchants attempted to entice people to come look at their wares reminded Mia of carnival barkers at the county fair. She was content to ignore them, but her curiosity got the better of her as she was drawn to a particular booth. Suddenly, a handful of sparkling, gem encrusted jewelry was shoved into her face by a pair of large, dirty hands.

"Gems and baubles for the lovely lady!" the merchant cried exuberantly, trying desperately to pawn them off on Mia.

"S-Sorry," she said, gently pushing his hands away. "I can't afford that."

"Oh, aren't we posh? Look at yeh, all dressed up like some sorta noblewoman, talkin' with that highfalutin accent! I bet ye've a man somewhere whose given yeh quite the allowance, missy! Don't ye hold out on me!"

"If you're asking if I'm married," said Mia, feeling rather ruffled and indignant, "I'm not, nor would I accept an allowance from my husband if I was. I'm capable of earning my own wages, thank you very much."

"Oh, ho, ho! One of 'em femmies, are yeh? Must be an heiress, eh? Some old biddy's pushin' up daisies so you can live a fancy life and now yeh think yer too good for everyone else, am I right? Yeah, I reckon I am. I know your type."

With a disgusted scowl, Mia turned away from him, but he reached out and clamped a hand over her wrist.

"H-HEY!"

Hook was content to pass through the Mercado unmolested until he realized Mia was no longer at his side. He glanced wildly about, searching the marketplace for her. Had the foolish girl made some attempt to escape him? In _this_ godforsaken place? No, surely not. The girl was not that stupid. It was then he heard her cries. His hand moved to the hilt of his rapier as he spun towards the sound.

"If'n you were mine," the merchant breathed into Mia's face with a lewd grin, "I'd see to it that yeh were adorned with the most expensive jewels me money could buy... and nothin' else."

Mia gasped, scandalized. The man let out a phlegmy guffaw and licked his lips. Wincing, Mia tried to pull away, but he wouldn't release her.

"Let me go!"

The man leaned closer and Mia gagged at his rancid breath.

"Seein' as you ain't got a man 'round to protect you, miss femmie, way I sees it, I can stake me claim right now. How the mighty have fallen, eh?" His grip tightened on her wrist as he pulled her closer.

Wham! A steel hook slammed down onto the booth, trapping the man's wrist between the inner curve of the hook and the wooden counter with frightening accuracy.

"And _that_ , I'm afraid, is where you are wrong, sir."

The merchant's eyes were as large as saucers as he gaped up at Mia's savior.

"Kindly consider releasing my companion," said Hook with a dangerous sort of politeness.

The man's fingers immediately released their hold on Mia's wrist. Hook subsequently removed his namesake from the counter. The man drew back, clutching his wrist, marveling at it in wonder. It had not a scratch on it, further proof as to Hook's dangerous precision.

Hook drew his rapier and pointed it at the man's throat. "You'd do well to keep your vile fantasies to yourself," he growled. "When you speak poorly of someone in _Hook's_ company, you speak poorly of Hook! And _that_ is a dead man's desire... and in quite bad form, I must say."

The man's Adam's apple bobbled nervously. Beads of sweat trailed down his face. "F-Forgive me, Cap'n! I-I wasn't realizin' the lass was with the respected and magnanimous Cap'n Hook!" His eyes flicked to Mia and he doffed his bandana. "Me h-humble apologies, Miss."

Trying to look more angry than frightened, Mia crossed her arms and mustered up a glare. "Ahem! Yes. Well, see to it that it doesn't happen again," she said in her most imperious voice.

Nodding vigorously, the man pressed a doubloon into Mia's hand. "Please accept this humble token of me apologies!" With that, he grabbed an armful of his wares and scampered away as fast as he could.

Hook sheathed his sword, glaring after the retreating man. He placed his hand on Mia's shoulder. "Are you all right?" His voice wavered, and Mia was surprised to see a look of genuine concern on his face.

"Y-Yes. Thank you."

Hook breathed a sigh of relief before taking her by the arm and steering her away from the booth. "I told you to stay close. For your own sake, _please_ do not wander away from me again."

"Sorry."

As Hook and Mia took up their journey once more, Mia gazed down at the coin in her hand. "He gave me a doubloon, though. A gold doubloon!"

"Yes..." drawled Hook. "He'd likely do anything to flee from that situation. Even give you a worthless metal coin that's been painted gold." Mia's expression slipped. She gazed, crestfallen, at the coin in her hand. "That son of a bitch," she muttered. Her hand closed around the coin and she pitched it angrily across the Mercado. "And here I was so excited!"

"Most of these people are untrustworthy vermin, Mia. It's why I prefer to just do my business and return to the ship when finished. It's best not to interact with them for too long."

"Then why did you insist on bringing me ashore with you?"

"Because I wanted to show you off," he said with a smile. "But more than that," he added before Mia could interject with one of her sharp-tongued quips, "There is one place here in particular that I know will very much appeal to you. And _that,_ my dear, is our ultimate destination."

"Wait... you mean this excursion is all just for me? To take me to this place you think I'll like?"

"Darling, I _know_ you'll like it," said Hook with a confident smile. "And to answer your question - yes. Puerto Dorado may have been a necessary stop for stocking up on ship's supplies, but I could have easily stayed aboard while my men procured what we needed. But there is somewhere I longed to take you." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, his brow furrowed. "Do you really find that so surprising?"

Mia lowered her gaze. "Well, yeah. I mean-"

"Mia," he said, his voice simultaneously soft and stern so that she was compelled to look up at him. "Whatever I may be, whatever you may think of me, this one thing remains true - I genuinely like you and I want to do nice things for you. Is it too much to ask that you give me a chance?"

His expression was sincere, if not a little hurt.

Mia let out a soft sigh, but slowly her lips began to quirk. "I suppose I-"

"Captain!"

The voice which called from across the Mercado had a sweet, feminine lilt.

Hook and Mia glanced up to see a young woman hurrying across the marketplace towards them, holding up her skirts as she ran. This pretty young wench - and she was indeed _quite_ pretty, Mia noted - was a buxom blonde with her hair in braids. She was dressed like a tavern maid, wearing a blouse that left very little the imagination.

"Oh dear..." sighed Hook.

As the woman came to a halt in front of them, Mia could see she had large, turquoise eyes and was only a little older than she. The girl's upper cheeks positively flushed at the sight of the captain. She smiled sweetly and kissed him brazenly on the cheek.

"James, it's been so long!"

Mia cocked an eyebrow. _James???_

Ignoring Mia's presence, the girl continued breathlessly. "I had begun to fear I'd never again hear the cobblestone streets of Puerto Dorado ring with the sound of your booted feet."

_Poetic, this one,_ Mia thought dryly with a roll of her eyes.

"But how _are_ you, James," the girl asked, tucking a wayward tendril of golden silk behind her ear. "You look well."

"Then why'd you ask him?" Mia muttered, but the girl paid her no mind.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, running her fingers along the lapels of his fancy black and gold jacket. "This one was always my favorite! Will you be long in town?" Her eyes sparkled with a hopeful hunger.

"I'm afraid not long, dear Ninette," Hook replied. "Two days at the most. And while my crew is enjoying their shore leave, I'm engaging in..." His eyes flicked to Mia and he smiled roguishly. "... personal business."

Mia shot him a glare, then turned her head away. It was certainly beneath her to engage in this tête-à-tête. But it didn't seem to matter, for the apparent 'Ninette' didn't so much as spare Mia a look, not even when Hook had glanced at her. Mia might as well have not even been there.

"You couldn't even spare one evening for an old friend?" asked Ninette, her luscious lips forming a pout.

Mia snorted. _OLD friend? Yeah, right. If this girl's a day over 21, I'm Peter Pan._

The reminder of Peter stung her all over again, and the wench's thinly veiled propositioning to Hook wasn't helping Mia's mood.

Hook stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Weeelll..."

From her ample cleavage, Ninette took out an embroidered handkerchief. One glance at the embroidered initials - JH - revealed to whom the handkerchief belonged.

"Wait a minute," said Hook, sounding just as surprised as Mia felt. "Isn't that my...?"

Ninette took his hook in her hand and held it in front of her mouth, her breath fogging up the steel. Then she began to polish it with the handkerchief, her expression rapturous.

"You know, James," she said, giggling and batting her eyes coquettishly, "I Inherited La Cantina from my grandfather. I'm the proprietor now." She held her head proudly as she tucked the handkerchief back into her bosom. "I could spare a few drinks on the house... if an old friend cared to visit me, that is," she said with a wink.

"La Cantina, you say?" asked Hook, his eyes wide with surprise. "If you inherited it, then old Dead-Eye Mulligan must have finally shuffled off his mortal coil." He took Ninette's hand in his and kissed the back of it.

Mia glared. This was getting irritating. The girl was practically throwing herself at Hook and he simply allowed it. Mia was seething. How dare he insist on her accompaniment on this little excursion only to flirt with another woman right in front of her!

"I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear," said Hook. "I suppose I'll have to make some time to stop in and pay my last respects to your dearly departed grandfather. After all, he was quite notorious for inheriting La Cantina after shooting the previous owner dead over a game of dominoes. A truly formidable ol' scallywag, Dead-Eye."

"Oh, I just know he would have appreciated it," said Ninette with a sweet lilt. "You were a man after his own heart. He did very much look forward to your visits... though not as much as I."

She drew closer to Hook.

"Of course... we had a little something more than a bartender-clientele relationship, didn't we James?" Ninette giggled as she reached up and gently twisted the ends of his thin mustache, smoothing it out.

Mia was disgusted by the wench's preening and fawning over Hook. She didn't have to stand here and watch this. In fact, she downright refused. Mia turned away and stalked off. She strode through the Mercado like an angry tornado. When a merchant attempted to waylay her, all he got for his troubles was a rough shove to the chest as Mia stalked off furiously.

Distracted by Ninette, Hook never noticed Mia leave. "I believe our relationship, dear Ninette," he said with a flirtatious grin, "was downright carnal. And although your grandfather liked me, it didn't stop him from attempting to put an end to my life when he found out about our... private time together." He took Ninette's chin in his hand, pressing his thumb against her delicate dimple in an affectionate manner. "Perhaps we will, in fact, stop by for a drink. But for now, I'm afraid that we..."

Hook turned to Mia, only to discover she was no longer with him. In a panic, he spun around, his eyes scanning the crowded marketplace.

"Mia? MIA??? I'm afraid I must be off for now, Ninette. It seems my charge has left without me. I shall see you again very soon." He pried himself away from the wench and hurried though the Mercado, searching for Mia.

"I'll be counting the minutes, James, dear!" Ninette called after him.

Mia, meanwhile, had reached the end of the Mercado where the cobblestone road forked in multiple directions. She turned on her heel and took the street she thought Hook least likely to follow - a dingy, off-the-beaten-path road that led to a more derelict part of town. It was highly unlikely the shop Hook was searching for, much less his bawdy little girlfriend's pub, was down this way.

Hook scoured the Mercado. He didn't see Mia anywhere. And if he lost Mia here on Isla Tesoro, there was a good possibility he may never see her again. She could be kidnapped by another dastardly cutthroat lacking in his good manners, or worse, killed! Neither were options he wanted to consider. Just when he was starting to panic, he caught sight of a rustle of auburn hair and the hem of a blue dress disappearing around the corner.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hook chased after her. She was heading towards a very sketchy part of Puerto Dorado. That road led through the Cutthroat's Quarter and eventually onto the beach to a place known by most as Dead Man's Cove. That was no place for an innocent girl like Mia.

As Mia turned onto a dark and desolate street corner, it occurred to her that perhaps this was not the safest part of an already not-entirely safe town. As though her thoughts had summoned the danger, a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind and yanked her into a narrow alleyway. Mia cried out and struggled until she was spun around to face her captor. It was Hook. A wave of relief washed over her.

"This," he said, "is _not_ the way you wish to be going, my dear. Trust me on that one."

Now that her moment of panic had passed, Mia's anger returned full force. "Who are _you_ to tell me where I wish to be going?" she asked with a good dose of snark before turning her nose up and spinning away from him. But before she could go far, Hook seized her and pressed her roughly against the alley wall.

" _That_ is Cutthroat's Quarter, the most dangerous, most murderous part of this entire port town. Only if you wish to have your throat slit and your body buried in the sands of Dead Man's Cove would someone consider going that way alone. _What_ is going through your head, girl?" he demanded. "What foolishness made you think it wise to storm off on your own?"

Mia replied with a sardonic laugh. "What foolishness indeed! You certainly looked the fool standing back there with your eyes bugging out of your head and jaw agape, practically drooling over yonder buxom wench!" She had to give herself points for skillfully articulating her annoyance in the vernacular of her surroundings. "God, I hope for your sake no one else saw that. It was both undignified and in bad form. If you aren't more discreet, people will no longer see you as the notorious Captain Hook whose deeds are infamous and who should be feared and respected, but Captain Playboy, panting over his blonde harlot. So excuse me if I didn't feel like sticking around while you made a mockery of yourself!"

Hook glared at Mia. He was just thinking of how best to handle this sudden streak of disrespect and insubordination when it occurred to him what was truly going on here. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Why, my dear Mia... If I didn't know any better, I'd say this bout of foolishness that's overcome you is, more accurately, a bout of jealousy." He leaned his face in closer to hers, grinning positively roguishly. "You're jealous of the attention I was giving Miss Ninette."

Mia flushed. "I... I am _not_ jealous! It's just pathetic watching you shamelessly flirt with a girl half your age, is all."

"Half my age? Oh, please, Mia," said Hook, rolling his eyes. "That girl is _not_ half my age. I'm not that old. Then again..." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose that's hard to say. I could be very old for all I know. All my time spent in Neverland, you know; it has beneficial side effects. But last I checked, I wasn't a day over... Hey! Get back here!"

Mia had tried to make a break for it, but he quickly yanked her back and pressed her against the wall once more.

"Oh ho ho, Mia," he said, chuckling and shaking his head. "I may not be old, but neither was I born yesterday. You're trying to distract me from the issue at hand - your jealousy."

"I told you, I'm _not_ jealous!" she insisted. "Jealousy would imply that I like you, which I most certainly don't! I don't like you at all! I'm only forced to put up with your presence because you kidnapped me! Why don't you go kidnap Miss Ninette if you like her so much and leave me alone, _James_?" she shouted, throwing his first name at him as Ninette had done. In a dangerous streak of boldness, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him.

For the briefest of moments, Hook's blue eyes seemed to blaze red, and Mia feared she had made a dangerous error. However, the look was gone just as quickly and a hungry grin replaced it. His hand moved to the back of her head as he pressed his lips roughly against hers.

Mia was completely blindsided. She thought she'd angered him. Then again, maybe she had. Was this a punishment or was he making some sort of point? And why, oh why, were her lips responding? She couldn't seem to stop herself. As though by instinct, or perhaps with a purpose she didn't want to admit, she was kissing him back. Their kiss was deep and sultry, but nonetheless brief as Mia soon returned to her senses and tore her face away from his encroaching lips.

"You jerk!"

She lifted her hand to slap him, but Hook caught it on the fly, pinning it against the wall above her head. His lips crashed against hers once more, melding hungrily against them. He pressed his body firmly against hers, trapping her against the wall and letting her feel the full force of a man's body against hers.

Thusly trapped, Mia struggled against him, writhing uselessly. Her free hand pounded on his chest, but he was the rock to her crashing waves. He would not be moved. As he continued to kiss her so heatedly, her strength dwindled and her arm fell to her side. Mia thought she ought to feel scandalized. But what she thought and what she felt were apparently two completely different things, for her body seemed to act of its own accord. Slowly, her free arm rose up once more, but this time it went behind his neck, her fingers burrowing into his long raven hair as she sought escapism in his kiss.

As their lips parted, Hook murmured softly in her ear. "Mia... darling..."

His lips trailed across her jaw and down the smooth slope of her neck and shoulder. His hand trailed along her other side, beginning at her cheek until his fingers brushed delicately over her clavicle, threatening to sink lower to uncharted territory.

"Such lovely skin," he murmured. "So smooth, so soft... so warm..."

"W-Wait... W-We can't do this here," Mia groaned. But then why were her arms against the wall above her head, held there by her own accord?

In this alley, away from prying eyes, Hook could do anything to her. Mia was certain she was about to be ravished. But was it really ravishing if she wanted it?

_Since when do I want this?_ she wondered. _I don't, do I? Am I really so weak? So lonely? So hurt that I'd... with him... in this alleyway?_

Undeterred by her weak protests, Hook's hand trailed down the side of her body, over her waist and hip. "Such remarkable beauty in these curves..." he murmured.

His hand slid down the side of her thigh over thick layers of fabric. He seized the material of her dress, attempting to hike it up towards her hips. How easy it had been for the boy, with Mia in that short nymph-like dress, laying on the beach, the boy's hand trailing up her thigh, pushing the material up with ease. Meanwhile, Hook tried... and tried... and tried... only to find that there was an endless amount of material to the dress.

"Bloody hell... Confounded... Accursed... Damn... Damn, it never ends!" In a fit of frustration, Hook lost the battle with the massive amount of fabric. "Blast it all!" He let the material fall back to her ankles and smoothed out the dress, dusting it off. "It'll have to wait," he said. "This dress simply won't do!" With a grasp of her wrist, the captain led Mia out of the alley and back towards town proper, dragging her along in a frenzied flurry.

In his rush, Mia was forced to hold up her dress with her free hand and practically trot to keep up with him. "W-Where are we going?" she panted, cheeks flushed from the heat of what had happened mere moments ago.

"We're going somewhere to get you looking just a bit more appropriate. If you're going to be at the side of a pirate captain of my notoriety, you're going to look the part! This dress, lovely as it is, simply isn't going to cut it."

"Yeah, sure," Mia scoffed. " _That's_ the reason. It's not at all a pretense for wanting easier access to--"

"Now, now, Mia," he said. "No need to be crass."

" _You're_ the one that insisted on this dress. I was perfectly content with the one I had!"

"Think of it this way, Mia, dear," he said with a saccharine drawl. "I'll be buying you new clothes."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Just because I'm a girl..." But she left the sentence hanging there because, in spite of his female stereotyping, the idea of getting new clothes _did_ rather appeal to her.

Hook led her through the door of a clothing shop, but it wasn't like any department store Mia had been in. This was a rustic, colonial-style shop which held all kinds of odds and ends, almost like a general store of sorts; one that sold bottles of rum, weaponry, and clothing of the piratical variety.

"Where is the proprietor of this establishment?" Hook bellowed imperiously.

A grizzled old man with long white hair and an eye patch over his left eye appeared from around the corner of a nearby shelf. "By Neptune, quit yer hollerin'! Imma comin'!" However, as he laid eyes - or eye - on Hook, his jaw dropped. "Gut me fer a fish! Cap'n Hook! Sink me, I never thought I'd see the day when a man of your stature would step into my humble... Eh, belay that. How can I be helpin' yer esteemed captain?" he asked, taking the filthy bandanna off his head and giving Hook a clumsy bow.

"My good sir, I wish to procure some fresh ensembles for my entrancing companion here," he said, gesturing to Mia. "Something more appropriate for being in the company of villains, mercenaries and scallywags. Something fitting for being at the right hand..." Here, Hook lifted his steel appendage, "...of Captain James Hook."

His egotism annoyed her, and so Mia decided to needle him just a bit.

"Right," she said with mock gleefulness as she clapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned into him in a relaxed, devil-may-care pose. "You know... the sort of person every young woman should admire and look up to." She gave him an antagonistic grin. Her new surroundings were arguably rather dangerous, and yet something about being in this pirate town was making her bold and playful.

Hook gazed at her with a passionate glare in his eyes. He traced her lips with his thumb as he murmured huskily, "Oh, the things I could do to this pert little mouth of yours."

Mia blushed feverishly. She should've known she couldn't so easily get away with mocking and teasing him.

"Quite the saucy wench, ain't she?" said the shopkeeper with the ghost of a smirk on his face. "Anyhoo, never you worry. I believe we may have just the thing." He tilted his head back and bellowed. "JINNY!"

Mia winced.

The shopkeeper smiled amiably at them. "Me daughter oversees the fittin' and attire o' the fairer sex. Las' time I tried ta' fit a woman for a bodice... Well, as you can see, I paid for it with me eye." He pointed to his eye patch and let out a wheezy laugh.

Hook chuckled along with him, but Mia hesitated.

"Wait... Like, seriously?"

"Where is that blasted girl?" the man grumbled, ignoring Mia. "JINNY! GET YER GOOD-FOR-NOTHIN' LAZY ARSE-"

A woman flew around the corner, her brown hair hanging in messy wisps about her smudged, freckled face.

"Ah! The apple of me eye!" the shopkeeper swiftly proclaimed as though he hadn't just been yelling obscenities at her.

Jinny was a little pretty, if not somewhat plain. If Mia ventured a guess, the woman had to be in her late 30s, and looked rather haggard, as though she suffered much in life. Mia could easily guess the reason.

"Jinny, be a dear and see about helpin' the good captain's wench into something more..." His eyes flicked to Hook, appraising his countenance. Confident in what he saw, he finished his statement with a mischievous grin. "... salacious."

Mia's eyes widened. "S-Salacious?"

"Aye, Papa," said Jinny. "Come, come!" She took Mia by the hand and quickly dragged her towards the back of the shop.

Hook grinned as he watched them go. Yes, salacious was just the right style for his darling companion. Let what was once an innocent flower blossom into a swashbuckling maiden who would strike envy in the hearts of his fellow buccaneers when they saw her standing at his side.

The proprietor watched them go, murmuring appreciatively. "Pretty young thing, yer companion. Makes me wish I was a younger man again."

Hook lifted an eyebrow.

"Now, now," said the old man. "No need ta' fear my good captain. It's been many a year since I could wrangle meself a prize such as that. The women I want won't have me, and the women that'd have me, I don't want." He chuckled to himself as he lit his pipe and leaned against the counter. "Care for a smoke, Cap'n?"

"Oh, I shouldn't. Quite the nasty habit, but why not? I'm in rather celebratory spirits today. I may as well indulge."

The shopkeeper lit the captain a smoke and Hook took a long drag and exhaled slowly. "Mmm. Does your daughter do good work, sir? I want to make sure my consort looks ravishing."

"Oh, you need not worry about that, my good Cap'n," he said with a laugh. "Jinny's been dressin' up girls like they was her own lil' dollies since she was a young thing herself. Ye might say it's a passion o' hers. And rest assured that as far as garments for the... er... ladies, go, there's not a respectable article of clothing to be found in this establishment." He guffawed as he took another drag on his pipe. "When Jinny's through with her, yonder mademoiselle will look every part the bawdy wench your loins desire."

Hook grimaced and put out his smoke with a twist into a brass ashtray. "Really now, my good man. Must we be so boorish?" And yet he felt a stirring deep inside, a longing to have Mia in his arms, to feel the warmth of her skin and the beating of her heart against his. Perhaps Mia could fill the emptiness inside him, that void that grew deeper with each passing day. But was it too much to ask of her? Were his expectations too ambitious? Only time would tell.

After a time, Jinny returned alone, motioning to Hook with a finger pressed to her lips. Hook followed her to the back of the shop, through a pair of bifold doors and into a changing room. Mia stood in front of a full-length vanity mirror, appraising her appearance, none-the-wiser to Hook's approach. The shopkeeper hadn't exaggerated when he spoke of his daughter's skill. Mia looked both spunky and ravishing in her new garments.

Hook's eyes swept over her appreciatively. She wore an off-the-shoulders blouse with lacy trim whose sleeves tapered above the elbow; and over top, a strapless, heart-shaped velvet corset - green with black trim. A wench's skirt about her waist hung long on one side and high on the other, showing off a tantalizing bit of thigh, which had eluded Hook in the alley. Silver coins jangled at the hem. Mia, a typical girl through and through, was turning this way and that, admiring her reflection.

A wide smile spread across Hook's face. "Yes... That is perfection!"

Mia spun around with a gasp and placed her hand over her heart, which only drew Hook's attention to the delicious amount of skin peeking above the blouse.

"God! Don't do that! You scared the crap out of me!"

She turned back to the mirror and placed her hands on her hips and grinned.

"Okay, Hook. I admit it. _This_ is pretty awesome. I look totally badass!"

"Badass, eh?" Hook was pretty certain he'd never heard this particular word combination before in his life. He wasn't at all familiar with such a term, though it seemed pretty positive judging by Mia's expression.

She spun back around to face him, grinning excitedly. "Could I get some boots, too? I'm tired of going barefoot all the time. Oh, oh! And a hat? Any decent pirate worth her salt needs a fancy hat! Oh, and maybe I could get a dirk to put just here." She pointed at her exposed thigh. "Oh, and maybe an eye patch!"

Smiling, Hook turned to Jinny. "Give her anything she desires... except for the eye patch," he said, casting Mia an incredulous look. "That's simply nonsense. But boots, a hat, and any other ensembles she desires. I want only the absolute best for my Mia."

Mia's jaw fell agape as Hook basically gave Jinny the go ahead to give her anything she wanted. As Jinny led her back out to the shop floor, Mia glanced over her shoulder to see Hook taking her discarded dress and folding it gently. The delicate way in which he handled it confirmed her suspicions. It must have once belonged to his mother. Just like the silver box and the brush and the barrette she still wore in her hair.

Mia hadn't expected Hook to acquiesce to her childish demands, but quite surprisingly - or perhaps not so surprisingly - he had. And indeed, she was very much like a child at Christmas as she scoured the shop, picking out things that caught her fancy.

She and Jinny argued over which hat would best suit her. At first, Mia was going for something more stereotypical pirate with a tricorn hat and ostrich plume, but Jinny made a good argument for something less ostentatious so as not to take away from the rest of the outfit. Finally, Mia settled for a cavalier style hat with a fancy buckle and a much smaller feather, belonging to either a hawk or falcon or some other bird of prey.

Hook shared another smoke with the proprietor while Mia collected the rest of her new ensemble. When they were finished, Mia was decked out in her new boots and hat, and even a dirk with a jewel-encrusted hilt secured to her thigh with a lacy garter that made her feel bold and dangerous.

"So how do I look?" she asked the captain, showing off with a sassy little twirl.

"You look absolutely exquisite, my dear!" he said with a roguish grin. "Every part the ravishing lady pirate. And formidable as well."

Feeling playful in her new outfit, Mia doffed her cap, stuck a booted heel out in front of her and made a sweeping, elegant bow.

Hook laughed delightedly. "Elegant, Mia! Good form! Good form, indeed!"

Mia straightened up again, positively beaming.

"You, my dear, will turn men's heads and slacken their jaws, and yet no low-cultured heathen running the streets of Puerto Dorado would dare tangle with one so formidable as you." He lifted her chin to gaze at him. "Now, my dear Mia, you truly belong at Hook's side," he murmured as he slowly closed the gap between them.

Jinny flushed, averting her gaze. Her father took a particularly long drag on his pipe, his eyes fixed intently upon the couple. Mia's knees weakened and her eyes fluttered as Hook's lips drew ever closer to hers.

_How does he do it?_

Hook's power over her seemed to increase minute by minute.

Their lips had barely brushed when the shopkeeper cleared his throat. Mia quickly drew back, blushing embarrassedly.

"If ye'd be so kind as to be payin' for the lassie's attire before ye go tearin' 'em off 'er, I'd be much obliged to ya', Cap'n."

Hook gave Mia an apologetic look before turning his narrowed gaze on the old man. "No need to be so vulgar, sir. It's in bad form."

Hook paid for the clothes and the blue dress was placed in a bag for Mia to carry. The proprietor and his daughter bade them a good day as Hook and Mia took their leave of the shop.

"This is so cool!" exclaimed Mia. "It's like being at a ren faire or something."

"A ren faire?" said Hook. "What is a--" But his question went unfinished as Mia took his hand in hers and pulled him down the street, laughing cheerily.

"Come on! Let's see what else there is! Maybe some cool jewelry to complement the outfit!"

She raced down the street, tugging him behind her as he trotted to match pace with her. This was perhaps not entirely dignified for the notorious Captain Hook, and yet... She was holding his hand, smiling a beautiful smile, laughing a refreshing laugh as she dragged him around the Mercado.

Ah! But of course! He should have known! Young women adored being spoiled. They loved having things bought for them. And Mia, apparently, thrilled at the idea of dressing like a proper pirate to match her surroundings.

Then so be it! He would buy her whatever her young heart desired. Money was no object. No expense was too great. Not for his Mia.


	32. The Path of La Creadora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of Spanish in this chapter (not a lot, but some). My Spanish is a little rough around the edges (it's been a while), so if there are any Spanish speakers who could critique any mistakes I've made, it would be much appreciated. Thanks!

It would appear that the swiftest way to a young woman's heart... was shopping. Mia eagerly dragged Hook around the Mercado the way a girl might drag a doting father or boyfriend. Hook was content with this. He would gladly buy the girl's affections if he must. So off they went to the different shops, buying whatever struck Mia's fancy.

Mia expressed an interest in assorted weaponry, but Hook was adamant that the dirk on her leg was enough. Mia suspected he didn't want to arm her too heavily for fear she'd attempt to kill him in his sleep, should she be seized by a desperation to escape. Mia pouted quite heavily, but when Hook bought her two gold bracelets – real gold! – and silver hoop earrings and a beautiful ruby necklace, all thoughts of weaponry left her head and she was again content.

Actually, she was practically squealing. Hook was catching a glimpse of how Mia might have been as a child. How peculiar that he should imagine her as a child! He _loathed_ children. And yet it did not sicken him as children ought to, for little girls were far more pleasant than their male counterparts, and Mia was such a sweet, vibrant young thing when she was happy.

Still, the thought stuck in his mind like leafy green garnish between one's teeth. Mia was a young woman, and yet she must be _somebody's_ little girl. In that moment, Hook thought of her father, whoever he may be. The man must be worried sick. A surge of guilt rose within him, but he swiftly quelled it, and it receded like the tide. Mia was his now. Nothing and no one else mattered.

As they strolled away from the Mercado, Mia held his hand, swinging their arms between them as she rambled on about her new prizes.

"Dressing up like this and getting presents... It's just like Halloween and Christmas all wrapped into one!"

Hook cocked an eyebrow. "Such strange customs you speak of. Cerenopian holidays, perhaps? You must regale me with them later."

Mia bit her tongue. It was so easy to forget that certain holidays from Earth weren't necessarily celebrated on Dizgaia. She needed to be more careful. How many times had she almost slipped up in front of him? Thankfully, it seemed Hook was none-the-wiser.

In a hurry to change the subject, she asked, "Where are we going now?"

"Well," said Hook, "After this little detour, I aim to take you to the place that I'd originally intended. Come. This way."

He led her to the far side of town to a quaint little out-of-the-way-shop which didn't seem to have much in the way of patronage. There was no signage on the building. Nonetheless, Hook pushed the door open and entered unannounced. Tentatively, Mia followed. The inside was dimly-lit and the walls were decorated with paintings. Some were quite good, while others were not yet finished.

"Paintings?" said Mia, going to the wall to inspect them. "What sort of shop is this, Hook?"

"One rarely frequented by the common riffraff of this town," he replied. "It is owned by a dear old friend of mine, one in whom I'm certain you'll find a kindred spirit."

Mia lifted a skeptical eyebrow. Hook had a dear old friend? It was hard to imagine the notorious pirate captain having anyone in his life whom he could refer to as 'a dear old friend.'

Hook raised a hand to his mouth and called out, "Lady Montoya! Are you in?"

At his call, a tall, dark woman appeared before them. She appeared to be in her mid-40s with long black hair pulled back into a thick braid with bits of gray at her temples. Dressed something like a gypsy with several skirts, scarves, bangles and baubles, her most noticeable feature were her deep, dark Spanish eyes. They were positively entrancing; warm but full of life and intelligence, and a hint of something else that Mia could not quite name.

"Hook!" she greeted in a strong, throaty voice. "Buenas tardes, mi veijo amigo!" She swept in, placing her hands upon Hook's shoulders, and planted a kiss on either cheek.

Hook replied in what Mia understood to be Spanish, but on Dizgaia must be the language that Hook had referred to as Cariocan.

"Buenas tardes, Senora Montoya," he said with a dashing smile, returning her embrace and cheek kisses.

Senora Montoya turned to Mia and swooped down upon her in the same manner. "Chica bonita! Bienvenido a mi tienda!"

She drew back but kept her hands upon Mia's shoulders as she studied her. Her eyes shimmered with delight.

"Dios mio! Que chispa! You, my child, are una creadora! You are one with the yet-to-be-seen!" She turned to Hook, raising a thick, dark eyebrow. "Capitan Hook... Did you kidnap this girl?"

Hook removed his hat and bowed, offering Lady Montoya a sly smile. "Only with the best intentions, I assure you."

As she did with all things, Lady Montoya took this information in stride. "No me hagas reir, Capitan," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, it had to be done," she said, waving a bejeweled hand dismissively. "La creadora cannot be possessed. La creadora possesses _you_ , as I can clearly see has happened. She has unwittingly seduced you, and now you claim her for your own. It is just as well," she said with a shrug. "If not you, it would have been someone else."

Lady Montoya was not one to chastise him for his piratical inclinations. In fact, she seemed to write off Mia's kidnapping as a necessary evil. Hook considered her words. If he hadn't claimed Mia for his, it would have been someone else. This brought back thoughts of Pan. Hook would be damned if he'd let Peter Pan ever have this girl again. Whatever addle-brained adventure had the boy distracted, Hook now found he was glad of it, for it left him with a true prize.

"My good senora, this girl has an incredible gift for artistic creation. However, all she has to express it with is a simple sketching book with charcoal pencils. I wish to procure for her something much more suitable for her skills."

Mia glanced up at him with sparkling eyes. "Really? You want to buy me art supplies?"

"Of course," he replied with a handsome smile. "I want your artistic talents to flourish! You are, after all, a refreshing change of pace compared to the dull-witted company I currently share aboard the Jolly Roger. I want only the best for you, to encourage your creative talents."

Mia blushed. No one, with the exception of her own father, perhaps, had ever been so invested in her talents or given her encouragement the way Hook did. He made her feel special. He made her feel like she could truly make something of herself. For if Hook was willing to invest in her art this much, then surely it must be worth something. And he was a man of refined taste!

"Come," said Lady Montoya, beckoning them forward. "Let us gather the supplies you need to feed young creadora's chispa!"

Hook offered Mia his arm as Lady Montoya led them through a doorway with hanging beads and into a stockroom full of shelves upon shelves of any supplies an artist could possibly require. There were easels, canvasses, paints, brushes, and pastels. Mia turned in a slow circle, gazing in wide-eyed awe at everything.

"Wow, I've died and gone to heaven," she murmured. "This is great! Oh! Paints! It's been so long since I've painted! Oh, and pastels! I've really wanted to give those a try again." She spun back to face Hook. "Can I get anything I want?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Anything you wish, dear Mia. Though, I suppose there is the problem of hauling it all back to the ship." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then nodded to himself. "Fortunately, I have a solution. Begin perusing, dear. I shall return presently."

He didn't have to tell her twice. Mia was already in the thick of her perusal before he left the stockroom. Hook stepped out onto the veranda and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"MIIISTERRR SMEEEEEE!!!!"

All activity in the Mercado came to a sudden halt as people jumped out of their skins at the roar which echoed throughout the square. Even two pirates settling a disagreement with the assistance of cutlasses stopped mid-clash. Inside the shop, several items went tumbling off the shelves where Mia was browsing.

Lady Montoya placed a hand over her heart. "Dios mio! Que par de pulmones!"

Moments later, the portly bosun came huffing and puffing down the street. He staggered up onto the veranda, bending over at his knees to catch his breath.

"Y-Yes, Cap'n? Ya' b-bellowed?"

"A little quicker next time, Smee," said Hook impatiently. "I want you to gather some of the men and return to this establishment. I'll have some very important supplies for you to haul back to the ship."

"Aye, Cap'n," said Smee with a hearty salute.

"And if any of them get lost or damaged in transit..." He grabbed Smee by the shirt and yanked him towards him until they were nose to nose. "I'll make fish bait of the lot of you! Understand?"

Smee nodded vigorously. "A-Aye, Cap'n! Right away, Cap'n!"

"Good," said Hook setting Smee back to his feet and brushing off the front of his shirt in an almost kindly manner. "Off with you then."

When Hook returned to the stockroom, he found Mia already laden with a tower of supplies in her arms, piled so high they hid her face as she tottered about. Lady Montoya was watching her with rapt interest. However, when Hook entered, she beckoned silently to him and he followed her through another beaded curtain into a private room full of cushions and silky table drapes and several painted canvasses.

"I knew you would be coming, mi viejo amigo," she said quietly. "And I knew that la artista bonita would accompany you as tu cautivo, and that your obsession with her would run deep."

She stepped aside to reveal a fresh painting, one of him and Mia walking arm in arm through the Mercado. It was hardly the first time Hook was bearing witness to Lady Montoya's psychic ability to paint the future. The downside, however, was that her visions were never fully clear. They always seemed as if they were shrouded in a black fog that could not be cleared until the visions came true.

Lady Montoya showed him a second canvass. Painted in deep shades of red and in a style more abstract than the first, he could just make out two figures embracing within the undulating waves of brush strokes. There was a suggestion of passion in this painting, and as Hook drew closer to it, his lips spread into a triumphant grin.

"Si," said Lady Montoya solemnly. "Your attempts to woo la creadora will prove fruitful. She will seek solace in your arms. But be warned... La creadora possesses a dark past."

In one swift movement, Lady Montoya yanked a drape off a nearby easel, exposing yet another canvass. This was a painting of Mia in the casual garb Hook associated with the more common denizens of Cerenopia. She stood in the background of the painting, her hands at her mouth and a look of fear in her eyes as she gazed upon the prone body of a man in the foreground.

The man was in silhouette, his features therefore indistinguishable. There was no telling who this man might be. But he was, apparently, according to Lady Montoya, someone from Mia's past. But just how distant of a past? Either way, one thing was for certain – the man in the painting appeared to be unconscious. The speckles of red paint spattered about the ground where he lay was a clear indication of blood, suggesting he'd been struck a blow – a broken nose, perhaps.

_Visions of a dark past..._

Hook knew a thing or two of dark pasts. It was nothing he couldn't help Mia through. A painful past gave strength to the you of present. That was certainly Hook's mindset.

Lady Montoya removed this canvass, revealing yet another one underneath. "The path of la creadora is fraught with dangers," she said.

This fourth painting showed Mia in vibrant color, running, frightened, from a multitude of vague, dark figures encroaching malevolently from the background. Hook tensed. This picture elicited a strong reaction out of him; a feeling of fear, anger, and an intense desire to protect Mia at all costs.

"But tell me, Senora," he said, returning his gaze to Lady Montoya. "Why has your third eye settled upon my sweet Mia? She may be a talented and desirable young woman, but beyond that, she is only a girl. What could possibly be so remarkable about a mere girl that she would catch the attention of your second sight?"

"That, my dear capitan, is something even I cannot answer; though I have my suspicions."

Following this, Lady Montoya revealed a final painting. It was a Vitruvian-esque rendering of Mia, her arms and legs extended to four points. A sharp, jagged line divided her down the center. The left half of the canvass was white, the right half painted black. Mia's body was similarly shaded. The left half of her body was black upon the white background, and the right side of her body was white on black. This jagged division, though innocuous at first glance, nevertheless stirred a feeling of foreboding within Hook, one which he couldn't quite explain.

"Forces of dark and light will seek la creadora," said Lady Montoya. "But the future is hazy. It is up to you, mi capitan, to decide what role _you_ shall play in la creadora's fate."

Hook was speechless. He couldn't take his gaze away from this last painting. Forces of dark and light would seek her? _Mia?_ But why? He knew not to ask Lady Montoya. She only spoke of the what's and the how's. Never the why's. Finally, Hook managed to tear his eyes away from the last painting.

"Senora Montoya... Dear Inez... The future may not be as hazy as that. You know very well the path I walk is not a path of the light. The light forsook me long ago. However, Mia... That girl of mine... she will be the one light in my dark world. One day, she may find that she longs to sail the course I follow. And if that becomes the case, I will teach her to be the world's next great crusader for the dark. Who better to show her the way... than Captain Jas Hook?"

Lady Montoya's dark eyes bore warningly into Hook's. "You may intentionally flirt with darkness, mi capitan, but la creadora es una inocente who walks a path of danger. Two roads I see ahead – one where she is taken from you, another where you sell her willingly. Nothing, of course, is set in stone, and I have been wrong before. But I offer you these warning as tu amiga."

Hook's eyes narrowed. Inez Montoya and James Hook, despite their old acquaintanceship, didn't entirely see things the same way. Hook was a legendary Dark One, a villain in the truest sense, who had no qualms about corrupting a girl like Mia and leading her down a path of darkness. Lady Montoya, on the other hand, existed in a sort of grey area. She did not follow the path of darkness, but neither did she try to prevent it from expanding its reach. However, in this particular case, Lady Montoya's warnings that one way or the other, Hook was bound to lose Mia, simply drew the captain's ire.

"In this case, _dear Inez_ ," he said darkly, "I can assure you that you are wrong. I will lose Mia to no one! For that girl... that wonderful, sweet girl... She is mine! Never before have I found someone so innocent, so vulnerable, so full of warmth and feeling, that has drawn my affection the way that girl has. No one shall take her from me! Understand? No one!"

There was a loud crash, followed by a familiar cry. Hook drew his sword and dashed into the stock room, Lady Montoya at his heels. He was relieved to see that nothing foul was afoot, only that Mia was sprawled on her bottom on the floor with art supplies scattered around her.

"Heh, heh. I fell," she said, grinning sheepishly.

With a relieved sigh, Hook sheathed his sword. He'd been understandably paranoid after Lady Montoya's ominous fortune-telling.

"You really must be more careful, my dear. I thought something had happened to you. I would be devastated if any sort of harm befell you." He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. Mia winced and stumbled into him. "Easy there!" he exclaimed, steadying her. "Are you all right? You haven't hurt yourself now, have you?" He glanced at her heeled boots and grinned teasingly. "Are these boots too much for you, dear? Going barefoot seemed more your cup of tea."

This reminder of her shoeless days brought back painful memories of running barefoot through the Neverwood with Peter.

_Peter..._

It hurt so much to think about him. Mia pulled away from Hook, trying to hide her grimace, but she could not totally hide the shadow of sorrow which stole across her face. Hook knew for whom that sorrowful shadow was cast, and he instantly regretted his words.

"It's not that I preferred it," she said softly. "I still don't know what happened to my clothes from... from when I first arrived on Neverland."

"La creadora paints for herself the garments which best suits her environment," intoned Lady Montoya, though neither Hook nor Mia was entirely certain what she meant by this. Perhaps she merely enjoyed waxing whimsical.

"If you have gathered everything you desire, creadora, I shall accept your payment now and wish you buena suerte on your future endeavors. I have no doubt you will create bello arte. After all, there is tu chispa!"

"Yes, of course," said Hook, pulling out a drawstring coin bag made of red velvet and pressing several gold tokens into Lady Montoya's hands. "Mi querida amiga, Inez... It was truly a pleasure to see you again."

Lady Montoya embraced him once more, kissing him on each cheek. "El placer ha sido mio, querido capitan!" Then, softly, she whispered to him. "Remember what I have told you, mi amigo. The girl will drown her sorrows in your affections. The tides, however, could change. Her fondness for you may grow. But if you truly wish to win her heart, I would advise that when the time comes – and you will know when it comes, mi capitan – that you set her free. Otherwise, you will lose la creadora in more ways than one."

Hook took Lady Montoya's advice with him, but offered up no reply. She seemed insistent that one way or another he was going to lose Mia – either by his own choice, or that she would be taken from him. Hook didn't buy into any of it. He didn't _want_ to buy into any of it. Why would he release the girl? Why would he give up the first person to have come along in so very, very long with whom he had made such a profound connection? He knew Lady Montoya had something of a prophetic way about her, but in this case, he refused to believe her.

Hook was so distracted by all that Lady Montoya had told him, that he never heard her words to Mia as she embraced her and kissed her on the cheek, whispering, "I am sorry." Then, with a wave and a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, she sent them on their way.

Mia and Hook stood on the veranda, waiting for Smee and the others to return for their purchases, both of them pensive and lost in their own heads over Lady Montoya's words to each of them. Mia was the first to speak.

"She called me 'la creadora.' Why? What does it mean?"

Hook pushed away the unsettling thoughts which had taken residence in his mind to answer her. "It literally translates to 'the creator.' I suppose she was referring to your artistic flair. After all, what do artists do, if not create?"

"Oh," said Mia slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

An awkward silence passed before she spoke again.

"There was something else she kept saying. Chispa. What does that mean?"

Hook was silent for a long time before he replied.

"Chipsa," he said, "Means 'spark.'"

Mia tensed. She tried to disguise her panicked expression as one of curiosity.

"What does she mean by that?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

"Lady Montoya," said Hook, gazing out across the cobblestone street at nothing in particular. "Is what you may call a clairvoyant. She must perceive, within you, something very powerful."

"M-Me? Powerful? She must be mistaken," said Mia, laughing nervously.

"She is rarely, if ever, mistaken," Hook said darkly. He was thinking back to Lady Montoya's words about losing Mia. "But that doesn't mean we can't carve out our own destinies."

Mia was positively bewildered. What was he going on about? She felt as though she was missing something, a vital ingredient, to what he was saying. His words, combined with the faraway expression on his face, made it seem as though he were lost in his own head and merely speaking his thoughts out loud. Finally, he turned to look at her.

"A spark, Mia, is something everyone is said to possess, to varying degrees. It is the light of imagination, creativity, and inspiration. Something which, as an artist, you no doubt possess in spades."

"O-Oh," she said, trying to make it sound like this was the first time she'd ever heard this.

"People with strong sparks are often inventors, innovators, and artists. But some people have abnormally powerful sparks. Those people are said to be destined for greatness. Consider, for example, the Dreamfinder."

He spoke her father's title with disdain and Mia felt her stomach clench with anxiety.

"He has, perhaps, the greatest spark of anyone in the world. And look what he can do with it! He conjures and creates out of nothing, using only his imagination. No wizard or sorcerer in the world does magic like that. They are bound by books, wands, magical objects, and years of studying spells and incantations. But the Dreamfinder is able to skip the middle ground and create without the use of spells. He merely taps into his spark and _imagines_ things into being."

"W-Wow," Mia stammered. "That's, um, pretty amazing. I always thought he was just a, um, a wizard or something."

"Hardly," Hook scoffed. "He is something altogether... unnatural."

Mia lowered her gaze to the ground, realizing that at some point she had clenched her hands into fists. She quickly relaxed them.

"However, he is the only reported case of anyone having such abilities. Though there is, of course, one more powerful than he. That would be..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you talking about Yen Sid?"

Hook winced at the name. "Yes... We don't like saying his name. He is, perhaps, the most powerful person in the world, but he is limited by his own capricious standards of right and wrong. Some people believe there is such a thing as 'abuse of magical power.' He is one of them, and is rarely seen because of it. However, he has been known to meddle in the affairs of others when he perceives they are doing something he believes to be truly, deeply evil. Particularly if it is something that will affect the world at large."

"Well, that's a good thing isn't it?" said Mia somewhat defensively.

Hook's eyes narrowed. "It all depends on perception, Mia. In any case, _that man_ , if he can be called that, is a force to be reckoned with and puts even the Dreamfinder to shame. Of course, it is said that he learned from the ancients himself. So that might explain his extraordinary power."

"I don't know much about the ancient Dizgaians," Mia admitted.

"Not much _is_ known about them, to be honest. There are remnants here and there. The Gaia Sphere in Epcot is one, and the fairies of Neverland and the denizens of Olympus are said to be direct descendants of the ancient Dizgaians. But I digress. The point, Mia," he said gazing intensely down at her, "is that people with 'sparks' are considered taboo in some circles. To some, they are a threat. After all, imagine if there was more than one person with the Dreamfinder's abilities."

Mia shifted uncomfortably. "But, I mean, that doesn't seem likely, does it?" she said, forcing an awkward smile.

"No," he said slowly, casting his gaze away across the Mercado. "I suppose it doesn't."

As their conversation fell into a lull, Hook became lost in thought again. He wasn't pleased with the amount of mentions of Mia's spark. He knew Mia must have one. After all, she had to in order to create such beautiful specimens of art. But 'spark' was a taboo word among those of the dark path, and he had to wonder just what Senora Montoya was seeing in Mia that he could not see for himself. He wanted Mia's creativity to thrive and flourish, but he hoped for her sake that her 'chispa' was not too powerful. Though, if Lady Montoya could sense it, couldn't other more powerful, more sinister forces sense it as well? And if so, could Mia be in danger?

_I must ensure that she is not discovered,_ he thought resolutely. _I must keep her hidden... keep her a secret._

But had he just tasked himself with the impossible?

He recalled Lady Montoya's words: " _Two roads I see ahead – one where she is taken from you, another where you sell her willingly."_

If he kept her a secret, then she could not be taken from him. And the only circumstance in which he'd ever hand her over to someone else was if she was discovered by other dark forces who commanded him to relinquish her to them. In such an instance, he would have no choice. He was bound by the darkness to do their bidding.

Hook gazed down at the pretty girl beside him, 'una inocente,' as Lady Montoya had called her, with her arms laden with art supplies. He forced himself to smile at her, but inside he was filled with grim determination.

_At all costs, I must not let that happen._


	33. Billie Howe

Mia and Hook stood on the terrace of a crumbling citadel at a remote part of town overlooking the beach. A little while ago, Smee and four other crewmen had met them outside Lady Montoya's tienda to gather Mia's art supplies, freeing them up to wander leisurely about the town. In a desire to put some space between themselves and the chaotic bustle of Puerto Dorado, Hook had led Mia to these idyllic ruins overlooking the north shore of the island.

"No one really knows what this place is," said Hook, gesturing to the ruins around them. "It's been here longer than Puerto Dorado has been a town. Since the time of the Ancient Dizgaians. I suspect it was once either a palace or a temple."

"It's really beautiful," said Mia.

She stood at the edge of the terrace in front of the stone railing and looked out to sea. Below them, miles of pure white sand stretched to the east and west. Northward, waves crashed against the rocks, and the sparkling sea went on for an eternity.

"How come no one else comes out here?" she asked, thinking about the rowdy crowd back in town. "I would have thought that pirates might want to loot this place. Or are they too dumb to realize that they could find something of anthropologic worth in this rubble?"

"Anthropologic, eh?" said Hook, casting her a toothy grin. "That thar be a mighty big word ye be usin'. We just be humble pirates, lassie."

This manner of speech was so out of character that Mia gaped at him for a moment until she realized he was being silly. She laughed. The sound echoed prettily through the ruined temple.

Hook closed his eyes and smiled. "Ah. Music to my ears."

Smiling, Mia averted her gaze bashfully.

"Dumb is the right word, Mia. Pirates are a very superstitious lot. Knowing that these are the ruins of an ancient Dizgaian civilization, they think there may be protective enchantments placed upon it, and they fear they'll be cursed if they trespass. Such simpletons." His expression softened. "But I'm glad of it. I'm very fond of this place, and I'd be much aggrieved if it were to be overrun with the likes of them."

"Do you come here often?" Mia asked, leaning against the stone railing.

"Every time I'm in town," he replied, resting his arms across the railing and leaning forward alongside her. He was looking out to sea, his gaze as distant as the horizon.

Mia was surprised by how peaceful he looked right now. The wistful expression on his face and the way the wind blew gently through his long, raven hair... Never before had he looked so young and carefree, or so romantic. Mia tried desperately to memorize every detail of this scene, for she would love to paint it someday.

"I've been coming here since long before I was captain of the Jolly Roger," he said. "Back when I was just a lad, a mere swabbie first sailing under the skull and crossbones. When we were in dock at Puerto Dorado, this is where I always came to seek repose."

"And you brought me here," she said wonderingly.

Hook turned his forget-me-not gaze to her. "And I brought you here," he echoed softly.

Mia turned her eyes back to sea.

_Why?_ she wondered.

If this was his private, secret place, why would he show it to her?

_Maybe he really does like me, I mean, if he's willing to take me to his secret place where he comes to hide from the world.... And he_ did _buy me all that nice stuff._

But another thought came to her, a less appealing and more cynical conclusion. Her expression must have changed to reflect her thoughts, for Hook quickly took notice.

"What ever is the matter, precious? You look as though something is troubling you."

Mia kept her gaze seaward as she replied. "Well, I guess it's just all this stuff you're doing for me... all this stuff you've been buying me. I can't pretend to understand the currency you use, but it seems like a lot of money. It makes me wonder..." She hesitated and forced herself to meet his gaze. "You're grooming me, aren't you?"

"Grooming you?" he said, looking affronted. "What a disgusting accusation, Mia."

"I'm sorry. It's just that—"

"Have I been trying to win your affections?" he swiftly interjected. "Yes, just the same as I would attempt to win the affections of any young woman I had the intention of courting."

"Then you admit it."

"I admit," said Hook, his eyes narrowed in an annoyed glare, "that I thought, perhaps foolishly, that I could buy your affections. But grooming you?" He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "I am not looking for lewd favors. I've told you before, I take more pleasure in winning a woman through my powers of seduction than forcing myself on her."

"So what category does manipulation fall into?"

"Manipulation?" he said, his voice rising above the crash of the waves below. "If I'm trying to manipulate you at all, it is only for your affection! Not for some perverse—"

"What about the alleyway?" Mia countered.

Hook angrily strode towards her. Mia gasped as he planted his hand and hook on the railing on either side of her, trapping her between his arms.

"Is it true that I desire you? I'd be a liar if I gave you anything but a full confirmation there. Certainly, my behavior in the alley is proof of that. But buying you gifts is not the way I intend to seduce you. I have other methods for that. Did it ever occur to you, Mia, that I might want something more from you than just your body?"

Mia gaped at him. She didn't know quite what to say to this. With a sigh, Hook released her and walked away, turning once more to gaze across the ocean.

"I admit that when I first laid eyes on you, it was a fascination and a physical desire which drew me to you – that and the idea that I could use you as bait to capture Pan. But since having you on my ship and getting to know more about you, I've found myself drawn to you in a more meaningful way. I feel as though I've found a kindred spirit in you, someone who just might be able to understand me."

Mia straightened up, tilting her head curiously. _A kindred spirit? Really?_ Then again, considering their discussion in his cabin the night he played the harpsichord and she sketched him, perhaps that was not totally off the mark.

He turned towards her again, his expression earnest. "You and I, we both have an artist's heart. Your drawings, my music. They are our preferred way to express ourselves, our deepest selves. You spoke of your mother and how you felt she didn't support your artistic endeavors the way a mother ought to. For me, it was my stepfather."

A mother and a stepfather. How human he was! How normal! It was so surreal. Mia never expected Hook to be so multidimensional. Furthermore, she was surprised by how easily he opened up to her. Mia wondered if perhaps she ought to be flattered. After all, it was not in his nature to be so open. Did he really like her so much that he had no qualms giving her such insight to the being that was James Hook?

"What about your biological father?" she asked.

Hook turned his gaze out to sea once more. "I never met him. He died when I was very young. Too young to remember."

As more of Hook's ambiguous and possibly tragic past was revealed, little by little Mia found herself ever more drawn to him.

"My father also—"

She stopped short. That wasn't true. Her biological father was alive and well in Cerenopia. Her mother had only told her that her father had died. A combination of years of believing this lie and that fact that her time on Neverland had addled her brain caused her to almost speak this untruth.

Hook's eyebrows lifted. "Yours as well?"

"Well," said Mia, flushing, "It's not so much that he died. My mother just told me he was dead. She had me believing it for years. I never knew the truth until recently."

"Tsk," he said with a disapproving shake of his head. "It must be awful for you, coming from such an estranged family and knowing you've been lied to your whole life. If that isn't hardship, I don't know what is."

Mia had never really thought about it that way. Certainly, she'd been angry at her mother after meeting the Dreamfinder and learning the truth of herself and of how her mother had taken her to Earth and abandoned her father. But that didn't mean she hadn't had a good life on Earth... right? To Mia's horror, she realized she didn't actually remember much from then.

_But it wasn't all that long ago,_ she thought in a panic. _How could I forget?_

She supposed there was Neverland to consider, and the effect it had on one's memory. The island of youthful delights gave everyone who visited its shores a short-term memory.

_But I'm away from Neverland now! I've been away for... days... a week?_

So then why was she still feeling so forgetful?

"But you see where I am coming from, Mia," continued Hook, none-the-wiser to her distress and the current trajectory of her thoughts. "You and I, we have much in common. We have suffered much in our lives. Your heart has been broken, and _mine_... Well, the only evidence that I even have one left to me after all this time is that I can still play such soulful music, and furthermore, that I still find pleasure in the arts – in _your_ art, my dear." Placing his hand over his heart, he gazed desperately into her eyes. "It spoke to me, Mia. It got this wasted heart to beating again. It made me _feel_ something. That is why I took you to Lady Montoya's tienda – so that I may encourage you. So that while you are in my company, your gift doesn't fade."

Mia didn't know what to think, but she couldn't deny the way she felt. How could someone be so passionate about someone else's passion? About _her_ passion, when she, herself was so easily discouraged? It made her want to smile and cry at the same time. She thought that maybe, just as Hook claimed she might understand him, that he in turn understood her. Perhaps there really was something to what he was saying. Dare she think that she could be more like this villainous scoundrel than anyone she'd ever met? Was he right? _Could_ they be kindred spirits?

"Regardless of what you may think of me," he said. "My admiration for you, for your creative passions, for your perseverance through hardships, and for your bravery... it remains strong."

"Bravery? I'm not brave."

"I beg to differ, Mia."

"How have I been brave?"

"You silly girl, shall I count the ways? To start, you've held yourself gallantly in the face of your kidnapping. Furthermore, you've befriended some of the most intimidating men on my crew. You even intervened and spared Alf Mason's life – a man who would have done unspeakable things to you if he could have gotten away with it – subsequently cementing his loyalty to you."

Mia opened her mouth to argue, but took a moment to consider his words. She supposed it was true that she'd not had a complete mental breakdown over her kidnapping. That was something. As for Alf Mason, it was in her nature to be compassionate.

"And let us not forget the countless times that sweet, mocking mouth has boldly scorned me," said Hook, placing his hand against her cheek as his thumb trailed gently across her lips. "Though I am your captor, and a formidable man to cross, you've rarely been afraid to speak your mind to me."

"I guess I'm a modern woman," said Mia, her lips quirking slightly at the corner.

Hook threw his head back and laughed. "That you most certainly are, my dear."

"But I'm not brave."

"Why do you say that?"

Mia lowered her head, wishing to hide the tears in her eyes. "Because... I... I want to go home."

Hook offered her a smile that was both tender and pitying. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, dear," he assured her, his fingers trailing gently through her hair. "That does not make you a coward. It is perfectly natural for you want to go home, under the circumstances."

"Then take me!" she shouted, shoving his hand away from her. "Return me to Cerenopia!"

Hook scowled. "If I've told you once, I've told you several times, Mia, that is _not_ possible."

"Then commission someone who _can_ take me home! Or put me in a dinghy and point me in the right direction! Do _something_!"

"And then what?" he demanded. "Leave you to fend for yourself in Dizgaia's vast oceans and expect you not to be picked up by some scoundrel less principled than I, or picked _off_ by some sea monster?"

"Sea monster? There are friggin' sea monsters?!"

"Exactly my point, Mia! How naïve you are! You've never even been outside of Cerenopia before Neverland, have you?"

Mia lowered her gaze as tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I... I don't remember."

"What? You don't... Mia, don't play games with me," he said sternly.

"That's just it!" she cried. "Something's wrong with me! I'm forgetting things. Things I shouldn't be forgetting. At first, I thought it was just Neverland causing it. But there are things even now I can't remember. Like, there was something not just before _Neverland,_ but _before_ before."

Her memories from before Dizgaia were hazy at best. She knew she was from Earth. She knew her mother hadn't been particularly supportive of her artistic endeavors. She knew she possessed a great spark, just like her biological father, the Dreamfinder, and that she needed to be kept a secret from the Dark Ones because of it. But much of her life on Earth prior to Dizgaia was slipping away. In fact, she couldn't even recall exactly how she'd left Earth and come to Dizgaia, or under what circumstances.

" _Before_ before?" said Hook, his brow knitting in confusion. "What in the world does that mean? And what ever could it be that is slipping your mind that is so dire?"

Mia shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know," she whispered.

Hook thought back to his conversation with Lady Montoya, and specifically the painting of Mia with her hands at her mouth and the man on the ground, bleeding from his nose.

_'La creadora possesses a dark past.'_

A look of genuine concern flitted across his face as he placed a hand on Mia's shoulder. "As contradictory as this sounds," he said, "Do you remember any of what you're forgetting?"

Mia scrunched up her face in thought, then shook her head. "No... not really. But I get the feeling that even if I did, I'm not supposed to tell you."

No, indeed! She could not let him know that she was from Earth. No one outside of her friends and allies could know that. That must be kept just as secret as her spark.

As though the word 'spark' had summoned it, Mia had a strange sort of _spark_ in her memory. In something like a flash, a jumble of images came to her mind. The happiest place on Earth... or so it would seem, until a man in a red jacket shoved through the crowd; another man, one she knew and loved, falling to the ground; a voice yelling at her to run; running away, the red-coated man in hot pursuit; a clash of weapons; a tunnel of rainbow light; horrifying creatures leaping out of a vortex of green flame.

Curiosity and panic waged war inside Hook as he watched the girl's eyes gloss over. Mia looked as though she were somewhere else entirely, somewhere far away.

"Mia, what is it?"

Her hands came to her mouth in much the same manner as depicted in the painting Lady Montoya had shown him, and she let out a strangled cry. Hook grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake, trying to snap her out of it.

"Mia, what's wrong? Mia!"

Mia quickly snapped to, the one-thousand-yard stare leaving her eyes as she was brought back to the here and now. In lieu of an answer, she buried her face against his chest and cried, clinging to the lapels of his crimson coat.

"I c-can't t-tell you. I'm s-sorry," she cried, seeking his warmth and protection despite her next words. "Hook, please... I'm begging you, let me go. Send me home. I need to get back. I can't stay with you."

Hook wrapped his arms around her. Despite the fact that Hook was one of the most notorious villains in all of literature, and although he was one of The Dark Ones, somehow, quite strangely, his embrace made her feel safe and protected. Holding her close, he lifted the hat off her head and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"Dear, sweet Mia..."

Mia held her breath, waiting, praying.

"I will just as soon help you forget these memories that pain you so than let you get away from me. I am _not_ letting you go. So, you'd best push those thoughts out of your mind straightaway."

The girl's lips quivered. Her eyes filled with tears of despair.

Hook cupped her chin and tilted her face towards his. "Mmm... Such sorrow on a face so young. Let me kiss it away..."

"D-Don't," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I've only just remembered! I don't want to forget! I can't! I—"

Hook's lips crashed into hers like the waves that battered the shore below them. And this time, he was not to be deterred. Despite Mia's fears and worries and troubles, James Hook was ready, willing, and able to push all of that off and make her drift away in the sea of his passion. Hook basked in the taste of her lips. They were so deliciously soft, and whether Mia wished to admit it or not, they trembled with a yearning that perhaps even she did not realize. And right now... they belonged to Hook.

Oh, how helpless she was! Mia could never have imagined herself in such a position, and if she ever had, it certainly wouldn't have proceeded with her submitting like a silly little damsel. But all the pain, all the fears, her heartbreak over Peter, it all rendered her vulnerable to the captain's insatiable desire. Gradually, she leaned into the kiss, tilting her head in a sweet, hungry way. It was as though his kisses were magic, as though they had the power to make her forget – for suddenly, all the memories that had returned to her but a moment ago were lost to sea as the waves of his kisses crashed against the shore of her lips.

Nevertheless, there remained that tiny voice in the back of her head, shouting, _Stop! Don't you know who he is? Don't you know_ what _he is? Don't be a fool!_

This was a dangerous game she was playing, and it was threatening to grow ever more dangerous here in the remote ruins of an ancient Dizgaian temple with no one around to interrupt. Would he have her here and now, or would he show self-restraint? And if he didn't, if he couldn't, would Mia be able to stop him? Would she even _try_? Would she even _want_ to?

As the two fell deeper and deeper into their desire, a voice rang out from the shores below.

"AHOY, HOOK!"

The captain's eyes snapped open. Mia gasped for air as he broke the kiss and looked beyond her to the shore below. Mia's hands remained perched on the railing behind her as her chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. That voice, that blessed voice! It had saved her from a most delicious but nevertheless embarrassing downfall.

Below them, tying his sloop to the rocks was Hook's trusted spy, Billie Howe.

"Curse your blasted timing, Mr. Howe," said Hook, barely above a mutter. He disentangled himself from Mia and raised his hand to the pirate below. "AHOY, MR. HOWE!"

The pirate below hurried up along the crumbling staircase which led from the beach to the terrace above, taking the steps two at a time in his exuberance. He was three steps away from the top when the decaying steps gave out and began to crumble beneath him.

"WOOOAH!"

Mia gasped and moved forward instinctively, but Hook beat her to it. He rushed to Billie's aid and seized hold of one of his flailing arms. With a grunt of effort, Hook pulled him safely onto the stone terrace. Mia marveled at Hook's strength. But more than that, she was shocked by how swiftly and unthinkingly he'd gone to Mr. Howe's rescue. Typically, Hook hardly batted an eye when one of his crewmen were injured.

"A little more careful next time, Mr. Howe," said the captain with a curiously playful smile on his face.

Mia blinked her eyes, wondering if she was seeing this right. Captain Hook never shared that sort of expression with any of the Jolly Roger's crew. Ever.

Billie laughed sheepishly. "Saved me life again, Hook! Now that's two life debts I owes yeh!"

Hook let out a short laugh. "Hardly worth putting on the record, Billie."

Then, to Mia's further astonishment, Billie Howe pulled Hook in for a manly but nonetheless affectionate one-armed hug. And furthermore... Hook went willingly! When they'd broken their embrace, Billie Howe glanced down at the crumbled staircase.

"I remember 'em bein' a lot sturdier when we was lads, Jim. D'yeh think they've worn out or 'ave I gotten wider 'round the middle, d'ya think?"

He patted his belly, which was hardly wide. In fact, the guy was rather lanky. He had wide brown eyes, a shock full of messy brown hair, and a scruffy-looking five o'clock shadow that didn't quite seem capable of growing into a beard. He looked about Hook's age, if not a little younger. In fact, next to the cabin boy, Bill Jukes, Billie Howe might be the youngest man on Hook's crew.

"Nonsense," said Hook. "You're as fit as I've ever seen you. In fact, you could stand to put on a few pounds. Perhaps you could borrow some from Smee."

Laughing, Billie leaned against a particularly weak part of the stone railing, only for it to break off and plummet to the beach below. "Woah!" Billie wind-milled his arms and righted himself. "Tha' was a close 'un!"

Despite having almost died twice, the man merely laughed it off. He crossed one arm behind his head and stretched the other towards the sky and let out a loud groan as his joints cracked.

"I tells yeh, Jim... I sure hates makin' that journey all by me lonesome."

"Why _did_ you come to this side of the island, Billie?" asked Hook.

"Aye, that," said Billie, scratching his scruffy cheek. "The winds kept changin' on me. Methinks there's trouble abrewin' on the water, Jim." He looked nervous. "Yeh don't think _she_ might be—"

Hook silenced him with a stern look. "There'll be quite enough of that, Mr. Howe."

It was a curious conversation, to say the least. Mia tilted her head thoughtfully. Who was the _she_ Mr. Howe referenced? And what did _she_ – whoever that might be – have to do with the winds changing at sea? And why did Hook not want to talk about this supposed 'she'?

"Might I inquire about my bird, Mr. Howe?"

"Oh! Right. Soon as we came within sight of Isla Tesoro, the bugger took off fer land. I reckon 'e was headed back to the Jolly Roger to rejoin 'is mate. I tells yeh, Cap'n, I hates bein' alone with that thing. The way it looks at me with them beady glowin' eyes..." He trailed off with a shiver.

"Wait a minute," said Mia, aghast. "There are _two_ of those things?"

"Well, of course, dear," said Hook, casting an amused grin in her direction. "After all, how was I to communicate with Mr. Howe if there wasn't another parrot on the other side?"

He made it sound like simple logic, as though he were speaking of walkie-talkies and not two supernaturally creepy parrots. Then again, Mia supposed that was a perfect analogy for how they worked.

"Most people would just use cell phones," she grumbled.

Billie had leapt to attention at the sound of Mia's voice; he hadn't noticed her until now. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know you was, er, _with_ someone. Me apologies, Cap'n." He offered Hook a sheepish grin before bowing his head to Mia. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss." He put his hands on his hips and turned to Hook with a sly smile. "Are the women on this island gettin' purttier, Cap'n? Where'd ye find 'er?" Then, hopefully, he added, "Are there any more?"

Hook snorted derisively. "Hardly, Mr. Howe. You won't find another like this young woman on Isla Tesoro. She is no mere tart like the lot one might find in Puerto Dorado. This young miss is a one-of-a-kind treasure, lost from her home but procured by Hook on the shores of Neverland."

_There he goes speaking of himself in the third person again,_ thought Mia, making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. But there was also the matter of how he spoke of her. She was a one-of-a-kind treasure, he'd said, and not a mere tart like the ones in Puerto Dorado. These compliments sent her heart to pounding as a girlish sort of pride welled within her.

Hook placed his hand delicately upon the small of her back. "Her name is Mia, Mr. Howe. Mia... This is William Howe, an old friend from my early years of piracy."

"Ah... So ye've captured yerself a Lost Girl, 'ave ye, Cap'n?" asked Billie Howe with a raised eyebrow. Grinning, he bowed once more to Mia. "Me apologies on behalf o' the cap'n kidnappin' yeh, Miss Mia. But ye'll find when it comes to gettin' kidnapped, ye can't have a better captor than Jim Hook. Why, I remember the time we was settin' sail after a week docked here in Puerto Dorado. The girls was linin' up at the docks, cryin' their little hearts out that the cap'n wouldn't hoist 'em over his shoulder and take 'em aboard with 'im. 'Course," he said, scratching a scruffy cheek thoughtfully. "T'wouldn't exactly be kidnappin' if they wanted ta' be taken."

Mia pursed her lips. She didn't know if Mr. Howe was joking or being serious. Either could be possible, considering how the women in this town behaved around Hook. She decided to ignore this commentary and instead inclined her head to Mr. Howe.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Howe. I didn't realize Hook _had_ old friends." She cast an antagonistic glance at the captain. "I thought he only had subordinates."

Billie laughed. "Oh, I'm his subordinate, all righ'. Make no mistake on that. I just happen ta be his favorite seadog. If'n I'm well behaved, he might toss me a scrap and rub me belly. If'n I'm bad, though, he gives me a kick. Right, Cap'n?" he said, giving Hook a playful nudge.

Smirking, Hook replied, "Certainly. Just be happy you haven't agitated me to the point of getting you 'fixed.'"

Billie gasped, clapping a hand comically over his groin. "Oh! That's strikin' below the belt, Cap'n!" He turned to Mia and offered her another bow. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss Mia, but I'd best go find me'self one o' those tarts the cap'n was speakin' so highly of afore – else I may lose me chance to enjoy me'self, should the cap'n get it into 'is head ta be cuttin' off me family jewels." He darted up the terrace and paused beneath the ruined archway that led back to town. "Enjoy yer rendezvous!" Billie called to Hook, pronouncing it 'randy-voo.'

With a salute from Billie, and a dismissive nod from Hook, the young man was gone in search of rest, relaxation, and an able-bodied floozy.

"Okay..." said Mia, crossing her arms and tilting her head in amusement as she watched Billie depart from them. "I was _not_ expecting that."

"Exactly what was it that you weren't expecting, Mia?" Hook asked with that proverbial raised eyebrow.

"You have a BFF. It seems you are human after all," she teased.

Hook furrowed his brow. "B... F... F?" These were letters he'd never heard before. Teenage girls and their arbitrary acronyms. Dismissing it, he said, "Well, of course I'm human, dear girl. Did you truly believe me so heartless as to be incapable of friendship?"

He sounded hurt by this implication, and Mia immediately felt guilty for her teasing commentary. With a scowl, he turned away from her and gazed off after Billie Howe, who was already long on his way towards town.

"Mr. Howe may be a pirate, but he's one of the few I actually consider to be a good man, as well." He returned his gaze to the sprawling, glistening sea. Tucking his arms behind his back, he gained an expression that was altogether wistful and nostalgic. "Billie Howe was a powder monkey on the first ship I ever served on. He showed me the ropes. He showed me how to survive. If it weren't for that man, I might never have been strong enough to last under the influence of the black flag."

A powder monkey, as Mia recalled, was a job reserved for the younger boys or slender, quick-footed young men. It was their duty to run back and forth from the ammunitions room to the deck with gun powder for the cannons during battle. It was a dangerous job, particularly if the gunpowder were to explode while they were carrying it. From the sound of it, Billie Howe had been a low man (or even boy, perhaps, at the time) in the hierarchy of the pirate ship, and yet he'd apparently helped show Hook the ropes.

Mia tried to picture a young James Hook on his first-ever pirate ship, awkward, nervous, and uncertain of himself. It was difficult, but she could almost just imagine it. The look on his face as he reminisced, after all, was the look of a far younger man... almost a boy. It was amazing what the shadow of old memories could do to a person's face.

"We were close crewmates," said Hook, "on our way to becoming good companions. But what truly solidified our bond... was the day I saved his life."

Mia hardly realized that she'd drawn so close to the captain during his story. A storyteller herself, she was a sucker for a good tale. "What happened?" she asked eagerly. "How'd you save his life?"

"There were plans for a mutiny against our captain. Billie Howe, who was loyal through and through, overheard the mutineers discussing their plans. When they discovered him, they attempted to kill him to keep their schemes under wraps. I knew nothing of the mutiny. All I saw was a man trying to kill the only person I considered my friend aboard that ship. I was unarmed, but I had to do something, _anything,_ to stop that scoundrel from killing Billie."

"What did you do?" asked Mia, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed wide-eyed at the captain.

Hook glanced at Mia with a mischievous grin. "Well, naturally, I grabbed the first thing I saw, which just so happened to be a broken piece of grappling hook which had been discarded in the hold. In a desperate attempt and filled with blind fury, I took my makeshift weapon..." With a faraway but vengeful look on his face, the captain lifted his hook into the air. "And lunged forward, running that rusted iron hook right into the man's guts, ending his miserable, mutinous life... and saving Billie Howe's."

Mia winced. It was gruesome, and yet she certainly could not deny his act of heroism.

"The others were cowards," said Hook, his expression grim as though in his mind's eye he could still see the dying man on the end of his broken hook. "One glare from me, and they ran. The plans for mutiny were quickly discovered by our captain, and the would-be mutineers appropriately punished. I was commended for having prevented the mutiny, and the captain placed greater trust in me going forward. I had earned his respect and a higher position on the crew. And in saving Howe's life, I earned his eternal loyalty, his unwavering friendship, and the very moniker that has stayed with me to this day." He lifted his gleaming hook and smirked at it.

Mia's eyes widened with understanding. "AHA!" she exclaimed. "An age-old mystery solved!"

Hook cocked an eyebrow. "An age-old mystery? You mean why I'm called Hook?"

Grinning, Mia nodded. She seemed to recall discussing it with someone long ago, but she couldn't quite remember who. In her mind, she could hear her own voice, though much younger, asking, ' _Is Hook his real name?'_

And another voice, familiar but vague, just beyond the reaches of her poor memory, ' _Well, honey, I think it's more likely he took on the name after he replaced his hand.'_

_'But if he was angry that Peter cut off his hand, why would he give himself a new name about it?'_

_'Good point, sweetie. Maybe it was a nickname he had before Peter cut of his hand.'_

_'But why?'_

_'I don't know, honey. I guess that's a mystery.'_

"I didn't realize that was such a hot topic of debate," said Hook, looking surprised. "It is merely the nickname Billie bestowed upon me after saving his life. Though I suppose most people assume it's a name I personally adopted when Pan did away with my hand." He gave a derisive snort. "Hardly. It's much, much older than my rivalry with the vile boy."

At the mention of Peter, both Hook and Mia became rather sullen. Wise to this, Hook quickly sought to conclude his story, for never before had Mia hung on his every word like this, and he rather enjoyed it.

"After I parted ways with that crew and struck out on my own, I became captain of my own ship. Then, as fate would have it, I met Billie Howe once more here in Puerto Dorado. That was the day he joined my crew, and henceforth acted as spy and assassin when necessary."

Mia gaped at him, shocked. She almost couldn't believe those words. It was hard to imagine that the goofy young man she'd just met was an assassin. He had seemed so clumsy.

"Our friendship was as strong as it ever was, but in his loyalty, Billie will always act as an example to the crew, reminding them what a subordinate should be like. It is only in private, usually on this island, that we have time to act as the companions we truly are."

Mia frowned. "You and Mr. Howe's friendship, I think it's sweet. But it's also kind of sad... you know, that you can't be yourselves in front of the rest of the crew and that you can only really be friends here." She flicked a small bit of crumbled rock off the railing and watched it plummet over the side. Yet another piece of the tragic puzzle that was Captain James Hook.

Hook kept his gaze out to sea. "It's just as well," he said softly but with a sort of finality to his tone. "A ship's captain can show no weakness, especially not under the black flag. William Howe will always be my good friend, and he knows that. But he also knows that I am his captain. And there are certain expectations that go along with that. Paling around leisurely with my 'chum' is not among them."

"It's not that I don't understand your reasoning," said Mia, and she truly did. It was risky for a pirate captain to show a soft side. If the crew couldn't take him seriously, they might mutiny. "I just think it's a sorry existence to have to live that way." She gazed out to the horizon, her eyes shimmering in the light of the golden afternoon sun. " _I_ wouldn't want to live that way."

Hook found himself temporarily entranced by the way the light shined on her, bringing out the threads of red in her auburn hair. He trailed his fingers through it and smiled wistfully.

"Fortunately for you, my dear, you needn't worry about such things. No one would say a word against the fair maiden at the captain's side. A beautiful woman standing at the right hand of a man of high standing is not a sign of weakness. It would be ignorance to think otherwise. And, of course, very bad form indeed."

"In other words, _our_ relationship is one you'd be happy to boast about," she translated for him with a cynical look. "And I suppose you are all _I'll_ ever need, huh? What about _my_ friends?" Her eyes welled with tears. "But of course, I am never to see them again. Even if you have to hide it, _you'll_ still have your Billie Howe. But I will not have my Kevin Flynn—" She stopped abruptly.

_Flynn..._

His name had just popped out. When thinking of a dear friend, he was the first who came to her mind, almost effortlessly. How long had it been since she'd thought of him? Suddenly, Mia's chest felt both light and tight at the same time, as though the memory of him brought her joy and sorrow all at once. And yet, when had she last seen him? Just after the parade, wasn't it? But their planned 'date' had never happened. In fact, he'd been nearly impossible to reach. She'd pretty much given up on him by the time Peter kidnapped her outside Tiana's restaurant.

What was Flynn doing right now? Was he thinking of her now, as she was him? Did he even know she'd been taken? Would he even care? It seemed she was destined to be attracted to men who weren't invested in her, or easily forgot her. Flynn and Peter... Why should they bother to remember her? She wasn't anything special. Any fame she might have to her name was only because she was the Dreamfinder's daughter. Perhaps that was all that had appealed to Flynn. And as for Peter... She'd just been a storyteller, like all the others. Just another Wendy. Mia averted her gaze, trying desperately to hide her tears and the true feelings behind each one.

The name Kevin Flynn meant nothing to Hook, only that it was the name of a man... or a boy... and that much was enough to turn him against it. "There is very little I can do about that, Mia," he said tersely. "You are in _my_ company now. As such, I cannot take you to see this _Kevin Flynn_ of yours, no matter how dear of a friend he may be. You know very well that returning you to Cerenopia is not in the cards."

"Yes, so you've said," she said dryly.

Mia turned her back to him, crossing her arms as she gazed out across the vast ocean. This would be the sight her eyes would see day in and day out for – if Hook had his way – a very, very long time. It was beautiful, certainly. But how long before the sight of the ocean lost its splendor and became a source of tedium and ennui? How long before she craved green grass, rolling meadows, mountains, valleys and bustling cities?

Much like the daylight, the mood was beginning to wane. Hook could feel it. The last thing he wanted was for this place to lose its appeal. Perhaps they had overstayed their welcome. After all, the sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon, and even if Hook didn't believe in the superstitious nonsense of his peers, he wasn't sure how he felt about staying in this locale in the dark of night.

"It's getting late," he said. "Perhaps a change of scenery is in order, specifically, a dinner venue. What say you to grabbing a bite and some good spirits at La Cantina, my dear?"

"You mean the establishment overseen by your slutty girlfriend?" She crossed her arms and harrumphed. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just return to the ship, if you don't mind, and you can have your little rendezvous without me to cramp your style."

"Slutty girlfriend? Rendezvous? What in the blazes are you on about?" he asked, and to his credit, he did look genuinely confused. But after a moment, an expression of realization appeared on his face. "Ahh... So I was right all along! Jealousy burns strong in you! All over a simpleminded bimbo like Ninette?" He threw his head back and laughed. "You honestly believe you have anything to fear from _her?_ "

Mia's face turned three shades of red. "I told you, I'm _not_ jealous! That would imply that I like you, and I don't! I think you're a... a... a huge jerk!" Yet despite her words, she could not meet his gaze. She kept her head lowered, her cheeks aflame. "I just think it's bad form to constantly be coming onto me and then flirt shamelessly with her. And excuse me if I don't wish to associate with woman of that... caliber. And despite your words, you've obviously slept with that 'simpleminded bimbo.' So pardon me if I don't wanna hang around your ex-booty call!"

She made ready to storm off, but Hook grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Mia... Is that really how it's going to be? You have the opportunity to claim the most notorious man to ever sail the seas of Dizgaia as your own, and you turn tail and run at the first sign of a challenge? You'd give up _so_ easily when your victory is so assured?"

Mia yanked her arm out of his grasp. "What do you want me to do? Clash swords with her? Defeat her in a battle of wits? Sorry, but I'm not a fighter, and those sophomoric high school days of fighting over a cute boy in class are far behind me."

Hook's grin spread ever wider, and Mia realized her mistake. She'd fallen into his verbal trap. Flushing, she tried to correct her error.

"A-And w-who said anything about a challenge? I never wanted you in the first place! _You_ kidnapped _me_!"

"Your antics, dear Mia," he said with a wickedly pleased gleam in his eyes, "bring to mind a popular phrase – methinks the girl doth protest too much."

"Look, it doesn't matter," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm just some girl you captured to lure Peter into a trap. The only reason you're keeping me around is because that's, like, in the Bad Guy Manual. Villainy 101. It's what bad guys _do._ They hold young woman prisoner! So if you want me to go to Ye Olde Harlot's Pub, you're gonna have to drag me kicking and screaming, James Hook!"

Hook's expression grew positively mischievous. "That can be arranged."

He strode towards her.

Mia took a step back. "W-Wait a minute. I didn't mean... I was just—" Her sentence ended in a squeal as he scooped her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder.

"H-Hey! Oh my God! Seriously? I was just kidding! Let me go! Come on!"

She pounded her fists against his back. She kicked her legs. She swore and shouted words that respectable young women should never say. She carried on in this fashion as Hook literally carried her through the town, past the Mercado, all the way to La Cantina. But by the time they arrived, Mia was giggling and Hook was laughing along with her.

~~~

Hook set her on her feet in front of the batwing doors of the pub, but he did not fully release her. With his arm looped about her waist, he pulled her to him. Mia went without protest, still giggling as she had yet to recover from her pretend 'kidnapping' through the streets of Puerto Dorado.

"Having fun, were you?" he asked, fixing her with a roughish smile. Oh, be still her heart! "Perhaps you'll start enjoying yourself a little more now, hmm?"

Mia feigned a contemplative expression. "Hmm. Maybe I will... or maybe I won't... Just to spite you." She allowed her lips to brush ever so gently against his as she spoke these last few words, but she granted him no more than that.

"Mia," he murmured huskily. But before he could close the gap between them, she reached up and tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes.

"H-Hey! Why you..." he lifted his hat to see her, laughing, turn and head for the doors. His eyes moved to her hips, sashaying delightfully, as though she owned the place. Another grin spread across his face, but just before Mia could go through the doors, Hook grabbed her and yanked her back. "Look out," he warned.

At that moment, an inebriated pirate was thrown through the doors and out onto the street where Mia had been standing just moments ago. Mia gaped at the man as he struggled to his feet and gave the front façade of the pub a rude hand gesture before staggering drunkenly away.

"Hmm. Seems a rough crowd today," mused Hook. "Shall we?"

He led the way through La Cantina's doors and ducked just in time to avoid a flying dish, which smashed into the wall behind him, spraying fragments across the floor. The pub was in near chaos. There was music, singing, laughing, cursing, and sporadic fist-fights breaking out across tables. The place was filled to the brim with smells of good food, better spirits, sea salt, sweat, and... perhaps a few scents worth ignoring. This was La Cantina.

As Mia took it in with an uneasy fascination, Hook wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his side. "Best you keep close to me in this particular crowd, dear."

"My, how terribly convenient for you."

They managed to push safely through the rowdy pub and wrangle a table at the back were things were a little calmer. Hook pulled Mia into the seat next to him, keeping her close. At the moment, though, considering their current environment, Mia didn't mind.

"Real classy establishment, Captain," she remarked. "Do you take all the girls here or am I just special?"

Hook smirked and arched an eyebrow. "Well now, Someone's feeling quite a bit more sociable all of a sudden."

"Sociable or sarcastic?" she asked with an arched eyebrow of her own. "I would have thought for certain you'd recognize the difference, Captain," she said lightly, as the hint of a smile played across her lips.

Laughing good humoredly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned back in his seat. "Truth be told, this is about the only place to get a decent meal in Puerto Dorado." He turned his face towards her and pressed his lips to her ear. "As for whether or not you're special..." By way of answer, he nibbled lightly on her ear.

Mia squealed and pushed him away. "S-Seriously?" she asked, rubbing her ear and blushing fiercely. "Haven't you had enough? You're driving me crazy!"

"Oh, dear Mia," he chuckled, "I've barely begun." His hot breath poured over her ear as he whispered lustily to her. "You'll find, my dear, that I'm quite insatiable." He trailed his lips down the side of her neck, whispering between kisses. "I love this new ensemble."

"Yeah, I bet you do," said Mia, pushing him off her with a grunt. "Knock it off. We're in public."

With a sigh, Hook relinquished. "Perhaps you're right. Showing off is bad form, after all. We wouldn't want to make the other patrons jealous. Later, perhaps."

"I never said later either!"

A busty barmaid approached their table and curtseyed to Hook, batting her eyelashes as she asked what she could get them. Before Hook could place his order, Ninette spotted them from across the pub and ran to their table, shoving the barmaid away with a thrust of her hip, somehow accomplishing this without spilling a single drop out of either of the two foaming mugs she was holding.

"James!" she squealed excitedly. "You came after all! Oh, I am so very pleased! Here." She set a mug in front of him and smiled winsomely. "Don't think for one second I've forgotten what you like."

She gave him a flirtatious wink before turning her gaze to Mia as though it took excruciating effort to do so. Mia could almost hear the cogs squealing in the woman's neck as she did so. 

"And would your... young charge, was it? Would _she_ like anything?"

Mia glared at her. "I'm _not_ his young charge," she growled.

Ninette's saccharine smile never wavered. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. My apologies, Miss. What, exactly, are you then?" she asked with a challenging smirk. "A Lost Girl, perhaps?" Her gaze flicked to Hook, amusement in her eyes.

"I wish _you'd_ get lost," said Mia through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that," said Ninette.

"I _said_ that I suppose I don't rightly know," said Mia stiffly. "Perhaps dear _James_ can enlighten us both." She turned her gaze to Hook. "What exactly am I... James?" she cooed with mock sweetness.

With a roguish grin, Hook replied, "I'm afraid I must admit to not being entirely forthcoming, Ninette. This vivacious young woman is not merely my charge. You see..." He took Mia's chin in his hand and pulled her face close to his. His eyes were for her and only her. "Her name is Mia... and _she_ is the lover of Captain James Hook."

Mia's temperature must have shot ten degrees. Her face was on fire. For him to make such a bold claim... and in front of Ninette, no less! Still, Mia sought to keep her head in this game. She refused to allow Hook to take advantage of the situation just because Ninette was challenging her.

"What is it about first-person pronouns you don't like?" Mia asked him, her eyes narrowed and her lips brushing unintentionally against his.

"I suppose I simply enjoy vexing you, my dear. Besides, there _is_ a personal pronoun that I _am_ ratherfond of. In fact... it's my favorite."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Mine."

Without further ado, Hook closed the gap and pressed his lips firmly against Mia's, brazenly kissing her right there in front of Ninette.

Mia's eyes were wide as she was caught off guard by this unexpected display. She'd been bullied by girls like Ninette before – popular girls who were used to getting their way because they were pretty, who enjoyed putting down girls they viewed as inferior to them. The idea that such a girl was now being snubbed by Hook, and the fact that he chose her, Mia, over the buxom Ninette and willingly put this choice on display in so public a manner had Mia swimming in a sea of euphoria. So much for not allowing him to take advantage of the situation.

Finally, Hook withdrew his lips and allowed his gaze to flick carelessly to Ninette. "Food and drink, Ninette," he said breathlessly. "Quickly now, or I might be forced to dine upon my delicious companion here."

Mia flushed, scandalized by his salacious words. Breathless and bewildered, she watched as Ninette stalked off furiously. Mia couldn't believe what just happened. She'd never been _the other girl_ before. She almost felt bad for Ninette. As both her breath and her senses returned, Mia glared at Hook.

"That wasn't fair! You took advantage of my jealousy!"

"Oh?" said Hook, lifting his eyebrows and cupping a hand behind his ear with a triumphant grin. "What was that last word, Mia?"

"W-What?" she stammered, realizing her blunder. "I... I didn't mean—"

"You said jealousy."

"That's _your_ word, not mine," she reminded him angrily.

"And yet you used it."

"I only borrowed it!"

"Mmm... In that case, allow _me_ to _borrow_ your lips." He snagged his hook on her corset and yanked her towards him, ready to indulge in another passionate kiss. But his intentions never came to fruition as a loud, awkward clomping sound came across the wooden floor of La Cantina, the sound drawing closer and closer to their table.

Hook's expression changed from a lusting, roguish leer to a colorless look, as though he'd just seen a ghost. The clomping came to a halt just beside their table and a gruff voice rose up behind them.

"Aye... That was a rather heated display, if I do be sayin' so m'self! Fact... I ain't too sure I've seen its equal in this place. Much face-suckin' and snoggin' t'be sure... but not the kinda passion you be showin' off. Tis a refreshin' sight."

"No..." said Hook. "It can't be. Not _you_!"

He spun around to face their visitor – a hefty, grizzled old seadog with a broad face that was partly pleasant, partly mutinous. The graying old pirate favored a wooden crutch, as he was clearly missing his left leg.

"Aye, Jim-Boy," said the pirate, displaying a grin full of gleaming, crooked teeth. "Long John Silver... at yer service."


	34. A Pirate's Life

Mia tumbled out of her seat and onto the floor. The grizzled old pirate let out a hearty laugh as Hook helped Mia back to her feet and into her chair.

"Mia! Are you well?"

The old pirate let out a rasping laugh as he claimed a seat at their table across from them. "Seems bein' surrounded by a pair o' handsome rogues was too much fer yer bonny lass."

Long John Silver was not a handsome man. It was arguable whether he ever was, even in his younger years. Ages of seafaring had weathered his features even further. Nevertheless, he had an air of importance and charisma about him. Her wits having returned to her, Mia leaned across the table, wide-eyed and full of excitement.

"You're really Long John Silver?" she asked. " _The_ Long John Silver?"

The old pirate cracked a smile. "S'far as I know, lassie, I'm ta' one and only."

"The _real_ Long John Silver, as in the quartermaster under the notorious Captain Flint? As in the sea cook under Captain Smollet? As in the mutiny of the Hispaniola?" she rattled off excitedly to the shock of both men. "As in the search for Treasure Island? The man who befriended Jim Hawkins and stood against five mutinous pirates? The man who escaped the noose with four hundred guineas of treasure? _That_ Long John Silver?"

Both Silver and Hook gaped at her in surprise. Finally, Silver's lips broke into a wide smile and he nodded. "Aye. The same. And so much more." He leaned across the table, resting his chin upon his fist as he gazed curiously at Mia. "And how be it that a bonny young lass such as ye self be knowin' so much 'bout an old seadog like m'self?"

Hook's eyes narrowed at Mia. " _That_... is a very good question."

Mia's face paled at the realization that she may have displayed too much knowledge. In fact, Hook was gazing at her downright suspiciously. Swallowing nervously, she tried her best to work around it.

"Really?" she said, leaning back in her seat and letting out a little laugh as though she found their confusion positively silly. "I mean, why _shouldn't_ people know about you? You're infamous, aren't you? Tales of Long John Silver and Treasure Island are there to be heard for those who are keen for a good tale. I've always loved stories about seafaring adventures and buccaneers. My parents were well-learned and told me many stories of Dizgaia's most notorious pirates."

_Phew. Good save Mia,_ she commended herself.That was a reasonable enough explanation.. _._ She hoped.

Hook was mollified by her explanation. Mia was a storyteller, after all. It shouldn't be so strange that she'd also be a connoisseur of tales about swashbuckling adventurers.

"This lass o'yers is truly somethin'," said Silver with a proud smile. "I sees why ye've taken a shine ta her, Jim-Boy!"

"Don't call me that, Silver," Hook growled. "Just what are you getting at by showing your face to me again?"

Silver's smile slipped from his face. "Is that inny way ta treat an ol' friend?"

Hook leaned forward with teeth clenched. "We are _not_ old friends! You stranded me on that blasted scrap of land after I did _everything_ to help you find the sunken treasure of Coeur du Mer!"

"Aye," Silver laughed, "That was quite the adventure, weren't it?"

Hook slammed his steel namesake on the table as a snarl issued from his lips. "I ought to gut you like a fish, you treacherous—"

"Ye needn't be so rash, Jim-boy," said Silver, looking anything but worried. "After all, if'n I got to keep that treasure, do ye really believe I'd be here on Isla Tesoro? I'd be livin' out me days enjoyin' the rich man's life. I lost that treasure."

"Serves you right, Silver. There are much worse fates for backstabbing scoundrels than simply losing what they've gained."

"Aye," said Silver, his expression darkening. "Yer words be true. That treasure was taken from me and lost to the depths once more. A vile treasure it be. Summons all manner of unwanted attention."

Mia listened to the back and forth exchange between the two pirates. She had to chew her lip to keep from giggling in a geeky, fan-girlish manner every time Silver called Hook 'Jim-boy.' No doubt Hook wouldn't take kindly to her amusement.

Silver's expression brightened as he slammed his hand merrily upon the table as though signaling an end to such unpleasantries. "So tell me, Jim," he said, "Ye still tryin' ta murder a little boy?"

With a glare, Hook retorted, "Are you still in love with one, Silver?"

Gone was the amiable expression from Silver's face. "Ye best watch yer tone, James," he said darkly. "Jim Hawkins was like a son ta me. I loved that boy like I was 'is father."

"Yes, and we see where _that_ got you," said Hook dryly.

"Ye'd never understand what yer incapable of ye'self, Jim. Ye haven't a heart. Don't know how I coulda' expected otherwise with the lot ye've thrown in with."

Hook slammed his namesake on the table so hard that the wood splintered. "Don't pretend to know so much about me, Silver!" he shouted. "You know nothing!"

The men looked as though it were taking every last ounce of their willpower not to run each other through. Sensing the danger and wanting to diffuse a potentially volatile situation, Mia interjected.

"So, uh, h-hey," she stammered, smiling and placing a hand on Hook's shoulder. "I see you're in need of a refill, and Mr. Silver and I have yet to be served. So why don't I, uh, go get us all some, uh, some spirits, yeah?"

Hook seemed to relax and Silver leaned back in his seat, smiling up at her. "Aye. A good plan, lass."

"So yeah, uh, don't... don't kill each other while I'm gone, okay? That would definitely traumatize me, and that wouldn't be in good form now, would it?" Chuckling nervously, Mia hurried from the table to procure the men some drinks, hoping that some good spirits would in turn lift theirs – because she definitely did _not_ want to be in the crossfire of a potential pirate feud.

"Got a good head betwixt her shoulders, that one," said Silver as they watched her go.

"Yes..." said Hook. "You have no idea."

Seeing that Mia had gotten safely to the bar without incident, Hook turned his gaze back to his table mate. "What is it you really want, Silver? Is there a point to this encounter, or did you just join me here to antagonize me so?"

"I never wanted ta antagonize yeh, Jim. We've had our problems in the past, that be true. But truth be told, I've always thought highly of ya."

Hook let out a dismissive laugh. "Ha! Thought highly of me? That's preposterous! If you thought anything of me, you wouldn't have left me on that island."

Silver shook his head and sighed. "I left ya, lad, 'cause I discovered the treasure of Coeur du Mer was cursed. I wanted ya ta have no part in it. That's why I lost it. T'was taken back to the depths by powers far beyond our control. I was lucky ta git outta it with me life intact. The same could not be said for me men. That's why I come to ya today, Jim-boy."

Hook's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure I follow."

At the bar, Mia found Ninette leaning over the counter with her bosom on display for a chuckling buccaneer who was slipping gold coins into her cleavage as though it were a slot machine. Inhaling slowly through her nose and steeling herself against the rampaging debauchery going on around her, Mia cleared her throat. The man and Ninette's gaze fell on her, the latter with a glare.

"Hey... uh, yeah, so I'm still waiting on that drink and Hook needs a refill," she said. "Also, our companion has yet to be—"

"Well, well, well," Ninette interrupted. "Little Lost Girl catches Captain Hook's attention and thinks she can throw her weight around now, does she?"

"Look," said Mia irritably. "Just—"

"Give me a moment," Ninette snapped as she turned away to procure their drinks.

Mia sighed. As she waited, the pirate with the gold coins reached over and gave her butt a pinch.

"Ah! Hey!"

The man smiled a crooked-toothed smile at her. "Ain't yeh a fine piece o' the good stuff, sugar cakes? Why don't ye set ye'self here on me lap, dumplin? There's a nice bit o' shiny for yeh, if'n yeh do," he added, holding up a gold coin.

Mia tried not to grimace. If she were to admonish him in the same manner in which she'd be inclined were it any other man at a bar, there wasn't any telling what he'd do. He was a pirate, after all, and potentially dangerous. Still, not wishing to sit on his lap for all the money in the world, Mia replied in the only way she could.

"Sorry," she said, "But I'm with them." She nodded her head in Hook and Silver's direction. In the end, this seemed the smartest thing she could have done, for as the pirate's gazed followed hers, his eyes grew wide and the color drained from his face.

"H-Hook!" He tumbled out of his seat and ran from the pub, spilling a trail of gold coins behind him.

Like scavengers, several other scallywags threw themselves onto the floor to collect his fallen gold, and a brawl soon ensued. Mia watched in fascination until a mug was slammed down on the counter in front of her.

"Here you go. One Red-Haired Tramp."

Ninette's drink choice was not lost on Mia, who shot her a glare. "My hair's auburn, actually," she muttered, but Ninette ignored her.

"Your food will be ready shortly, assuming you can be patient," said Ninette haughtily.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Yes, fine. Thanks. But Hook still needs a refill, and Mr. Silver—"

Two more pints were slammed down in front of her before Ninette turned heel and stalked away. Mia eyed the three drinks.

"Um... Could I get some help?" she asked, but again, Ninette ignored her. With a sigh, Mia collected the three glasses as best she could, holding them between her arms and chest and made her way back towards their table, stepping gingerly around the brawling pirates.

"Oh, good," she said, setting the drinks in front of Hook and Silver. "You haven't killed each other. That's nice." She reclaimed her seat next to Hook. "Also, your ex-girlfriend apparently found it poetic to supply me with a beverage called a 'Red Haired Tramp.' Think she's a little ticked?" She took a sip of the drink and licked her lips thoughtfully. "Actually... it's pretty good."

Silver chuckled to himself before taking a sip from his mug. "That lass is one ta talk. She 'n I had a'selves a romp just las' night."

Mia gaped at Silver. She supposed she shouldn't be entirely surprised with a girl like Ninette. Still, she cast a glance at Hook to see what he made of it.

" _You?_ " he said, lowering his glass from his lips in surprise. "Aren't you a touch old for her liking?"

Silver belted out another laugh. "That tart is attracted ta power, Jim. Not looks. And it helps that in me retired time, I became guv'ner of Puerto Dorado."

Hook choked on his drink and gave him an incredulous look. " _You?_ Governor? _How?_ What happened to Carlos?"

Silver chuckled into his drink. "Ol' Carlos took a wee trip... down the shaft of a well."

Now it was Mia's turn to choke on her drink. Hook shook his head as if disapproving, although his tone was impressed as he said, "You really are a scoundrel, John Silver."

"I didn't hear that," Mia insisted as she clamped her hands over her ears and began to hum loudly.

Silver roared with laughter. "Yer lass is an absolute delight, Jim-boy! The body of woman with the innocent heart of a child! Tis a mighty shame she's fallen in with you."

"Yes, she's positively corruptible," said Hook tonelessly. "All that aside, Silver, you haven't gotten to the point. Just what is it that you wish to speak with me about?"

As the conversation seemed to be taking a different turn, Mia slowly lowered her hands and listened.

"Tis simple, Jim-boy. I want ye ta give a bit o' consideration to retirin' from the pirate's life. Maybe split whatever plunder ya got now, take ye lovely lady and settle down... if not 'ere, then _somewhere._ "

"Retire?" Hook scoffed. "You _must_ be joking."

"I be serious, Jim. The sun is settin' on the age o' pirates. Hearty men like us are fewer and far between. We be a dyin' breed. 'Sides, the sea ain't ours anymore. It's gettin' a might too dangerous for our sort. Between those who seek our heads and the supernatural forces lookin' ta reclaim the oceans for themselves, survival on the high seas jus' ain't a likely outcome."

Mia considered his words. _Supernatural forces?_

That didn't sound good. But what did that even mean?

Hook shook his head. "Retirement, John, is out of the question."

"Don't be a fool, Jim!"

Hook's eyes flashed dangerously as he glared at Silver. "A fool? Is that what you take me for? John Silver, I am _not_ the same young man that you left stranded on that island. I have been through more than you can imagine. Leaving this life... it is not an option I have open to me."

This time, it was Mia who responded with an unusually bold question. "Well, why not?" she challenged. "Who's putting a gun to your head and telling you to be a pirate? I mean, if Mr. Silver is right, it doesn't sound like a life at sea is such a good idea anymore. You keep saying how there are so few places you can go. If you retire and renounce piracy, maybe you won't be so limited or persecuted."

Hook regarded her with an immense amount of incredulity, but Mia plunged on regardless. Perhaps this was the key to escaping her precarious situation. If she could only convince Hook of it.

"I mean, it seems to me you've got a lot of plunder. You'd do well for yourself even if you retired now. Or... well, I mean, if you really like life on the sea, then you could always become a privateer."

But now she had gone too far, for Hook's face contorted into an expression of unadulterated anger. "A privateer? Captain James Hook? _You_ must be the one who is joking, Mia. And who, exactly, would I be a privateer for? One of the lesser kingdoms, perhaps? Like Maldonia or Arendelle? Or maybe one of the Allied Kingdoms would contract me? Paridon? Or perhaps... Cerenopia?" His eyes narrowed as he glared hard at her. "That will _not_ be happening, dear. Have you forgotten who I am? Do you know what I have done? What I _can_ do? What I _will_ do?"

The sarcastic questions with which he bombarded her made her feel absolutely stupid. She should've known she was asking too much of him. Mia flushed with embarrassment and lowered her gaze to the table. No, she hadn't forgotten who he was. Yes, she supposed she had an inkling of the sorts of things he'd done. Yes, she knew what he _could_ do. But what he _would_ do? What did he mean by that? She risked another glance up at him. Her face had gone pale, but her eyes were narrowed with disapproval and stubbornness.

"Well," she said tremulously, "If there's no hope of redemption for you, I'm not sure I want a part by your side in all this."

Silver shook his head, looking somber. "That, Jim-boy, is a sad state of affairs. I only wanted ye to realize jus' what was lyin' in wait. Now even ye bonny lass is thinkin' of leavin' yer side."

Hook's eyes flared with a wild rage. Mia swore she could almost see a tint of red as he snapped at Silver. "No one is leaving my side! She doesn't have a choice!" He turned to Mia and his expression softened, but his gaze remained hard. "There are other roads than the road to redemption, dear Mia. And for better or worse, you are on this road with me. After all, where would you go, if not with me? Back to Neverland where your heart can be shattered once more?"

Mia's eyes prickled with tears. His words stung. The reminder of Peter still hurt quite deeply.

"Or perhaps you'll try to barter your way from here back to Cerenopia," he continued. "I doubt you'll find too many around these parts who'd be willing to engage in such an arrangement."

Once again, the hopelessness of her situation came crashing down around her. Mia's eyes were wide and watery as the captain brought his hook up under her chin and tilted her face to his.

"Besides," he said, his lips hovering over hers. "You know very well that I have no intention of letting you out of my sight."

Mia blinked back tears. Any time she thought she was starting to like him, Hook would remind her, whether intentionally or otherwise, that he was, in fact, a villain, one of the Dark Ones, and that she, well treated or not, was still essentially his prisoner.

"Sometimes you make it really hard to like you," she murmured as her tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and yet the unavoidable brushing of her lips against his was still so irresistibly stimulating that despite her turbulent emotions, her body went atremble and her breath became hot and ragged.

Hook grinned and spoke to her in a silky tone. "And yet, in truth, you find me absolutely irresistible. Funny how contradictory emotions can be sometimes."

That arrogant smile! How dare he smile at her like that when she... Oh, it just wasn't fair! She hated the situation she found herself in. She hated that she was such a damsel! She hated being his helpless prisoner, and she hated how much power he had over her! Just one look, the tilt of his head, a single expression, a flash of teeth... They were all her undoing. She hated this... and yet... she also loved how domineering he could be. It was so messed up!

"I also find you... absolutely... arrogant..." Her tone was reproving and angry, and yet her words were slow and slurred, as though she were intoxicated and he was the offending drink of which she'd foolishly imbibed.

His lips were brushing against hers even more now. His head was tilting. Mia's eyes were beginning to flutter. She could feel his breath mixing with her hot puffs of air. He was going to...

"AHEM!"

They quickly drew apart.

"There be rooms upstairs fer the likes of that," said Silver.

"I've never known you to be a prude, John Silver," said Hook.

"Prude?" he laughed. "Never. Just don't need the two o' ya snoggin' right in front o' me whilst I'm tryin' ta enjoy me drink," he said, draining it at a draught.

Mia blushed. She'd never been so mortified. Why did Hook have to try and seduce her right in front of Silver? Silver! Perhaps... Perhaps...

"And what if I were to appeal to Mr. Silver for help?" she asked, aiming the question at both men. She stole a desperate glance at Silver. "Would you?"

"I appreciate ye lookin' ta me, lass. Thinking' I be yer means of escape is certainly flatterin'. Been a long while since last a woman gazed so desperately at me, seekin' me assistance." He shook his head. "But I not be 'ere ta get into an entanglement with Jim's fury. And as I stated before, me sailin' days are behind me. No, I'm content to sit on me treasures and remain till the end of me days as Governor Silver of Puerto Dorado."

"Treasures?" said Hook with narrowed gaze. "You said you lost the treasure of Coeur du Mer because it was cursed!"

"Aye, I did that," said Silver. "But I didn't say I didn't find other riches after we parted company." Silver gave Mia a benevolent smile. "The most I c'n offer ye, lass, is a comfortable place ta stay while yer 'ere. Ye an' Jim, if he'd like, are welcome ta stay at the Governor's Estate fer the duration of yer stay."

"Gee, thanks," said Mia sarcastically, tossing Hook an annoyed look. "That totally makes up for the fact that I'm stuck with this kidnapping, unscrupulous man of darkness."

"Oh dear. Trouble in paradise, James?" Ninette had just arrived with their food. "A shame you couldn't have picked a more agreeable woman to be your... what was it? Lover?" She tittered and gave Mia a malign look, which Mia returned. "Anyway, James, dear, you'll forgive me that I must see to other patrons, but I'll leave you in the capable hands of Gwendolyn."

She jerked her head in the direction of a busty, blue-eyed brunette whose barmaid skirt was even shorter than Mia's wench's skirt.

"You remember Gwendolyn, don't you, James?"

She gave both him and Mia a meaningful look, and Mia knew she was intentionally suggesting that Hook had once had some sort of tryst with this woman as well. It seemed she had sensed the tension between Mia and Hook and sought to drive a further wedge between them.

"Anyway, James... When _this_ little ball and chain," she gave Mia another malignant look, "grows tiresome, remember how much fun you had with me. People say my best qualities are that I'm so patient and forgiving. Amongst my... other assets, of course."

She leaned over the table as she set their plates upon it, giving them all a good view down the front of her blouse.

"On the house, Mr. Silver," she said, placing a second mug of ale in front of him. "Oh, and..."

She whispered in Silver's ear as her hand slipped down his shirt, her fingers playing in his chest hair. Despite this, her eyes remained on Hook, and Mia knew she was doing it just to make him jealous, just as she knew whatever she was saying to Silver was a lewd proposition of some sort. Flashing one last sardonic smile at Hook and Mia, Ninette sashayed away.

Hook rolled his eyes. Between Silver's cryptic warnings and Ninette's petty jealousy, he was beginning to regret having stepped foot in La Cantina.

"Pay her no heed, Mia. Everyone knows men engage in silly affairs when they're in port here, and these loose women are more than happy to provide the escape they so desperately crave. But none of them hold a candle to a real woman of beauty and intellect."

"Like I care about _her,_ " said Mia scathingly, "or what you may have done with other women. It's nothing to me." She stabbed violently at her meat and potatoes and took a bite. At least the food here was good.

"Vindictiveness is certainly _not_ an attractive quality in a woman," said Hook, glaring after Ninette.

Silver took a swig of his fresh ale and belched contentedly. "True 'nuff, Jim-boy. But the rest o' her qualities are plenty attractive," he said with a grin.

Mia rolled her eyes. Between Silver acting as a harbinger of bad things to come, Hook's refusal to see reason, and the antagonistic barmaid, what at first seemed like an exhilarating adventure was growing old and unpleasant very quickly. But she had no idea just how unpleasant it was about to get.

The doors to the pub flew open and four haggard pirates burst in. Their wild eyes and crazed expressions marked them as desperate men; men who had met with the reaper and lived to tell the tale, men who were frightened and angry over what they had suffered. This was a crew you didn't want to mess with. Mia could practically smell their intent, and she wasn't alone. Upon their arrival, the entire pub had gone silent as the grave.

The men staggered to the bar, the loudest of them shouting at Ninette. "ALE! GIMME ALE! YOUR BEST ALE FOR ME AND ME MATES! NOW!"

Ninette let out a fearful squeak and hurried to do his bidding. One of the pirates seized a man who was sitting at the bar and tossed him clear across the room and took his seat, banging his fists on the bar impatiently. No one else made a sound. You could've heard a pin drop. When Ninette set their mugs in front of them, the men gulped them down greedily.

When finished, the leader wiped his mouth on the back of his torn sleeve and threw his empty mug across the room. It shattered against the wall. A woman ran, screaming, from the pub. Seeing that he had their undivided attention, the man addressed all present.

"Be ye warned! Steer clear o' the northern waters! There be monsters about! We be the sole survivors of the wreck o' The Jewel! The Sea Witch came upon us a fortnight ago, and when we could not answer her questions, she set the kraken on us!"

Mia's eyes widened. _Sea Witch? Kraken?_

She wasn't the only one perturbed by this news. Fearful whispers broke out across the pub.

"Sea witch? Did he say the Sea Witch?"

"The kraken!"

"Me and these three 'ere are all tha' remain to tell the tale!" the man continued, catering to the patrons' morbid curiosity. "We barely escaped with our lives!"

"Beware the Sea Witch!" his mate echoed in an equally frantic voice. "She searches for Captain James Hook! If'n ye know not where he is, she'll set her pet on ye, and ye'll all meet the same fate as The Jewel!"

A cold chill ran down Mia's spine. The Sea Witch was searching for Hook?

Hook groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Brimstone and gall..."

Silver crossed his arms, looking flustered but nonetheless smug. "I warned ye, dinna I?"

A man a few tables away from them leapt to his feet and thrust a dirty finger in their direction. "There!" he cried. "There be James Hook! I can'na be mistaken, for I see a ghastly hook where 'is right hand ought ta be!"

_Uh oh,_ thought Mia, glancing desperately at Hook.

As all eyes turned their way, Hook rose slowly to his feet. "And what matter is it to me that you suffered such a fate? Perhaps a little fib like, 'Hook sails off the Caribah coast,' would have saved you such anguish. I doubt screeching, 'I don't know,' much pleased the Sea Witch."

Mia winced. His lack of empathy would certainly earn him no favors with these angry scallywags. She wasn't alone in her thoughts. Silver shook his head disapprovingly.

"Aye," he said ironically, "That'll talk 'em down."

Sure enough, the other men joined their self-appointed leader in his face-off against Hook.

"Methinks it will matter a great deal to yeh once we get through with yeh!" said the leader, drawing his sword.

"Aye!" chimed one of his mates. "Lyin' be the coward's way, and we be not cowards! But perhaps _you_ , Captain Hook, bully of little boys, are the coward!"

An audible gasp ran through the crowd. Mia risked a glance at Hook. As expected, he was fury personified. His teeth were bared, and his eyes were glinting dangerously. His accusers seemed not to notice, either that or they didn't care.

"What... did you say?" said Hook. "You may not be cowards, but you've revealed that you _are_ nothing but dunderheads with no sense of self-preservation. The deaths of your comrades are your own doing for lack of quick thinking. And now you come to Hook, daring to defile my name? You miss your shipmates?" He drew his bell guard rapier. "I shall gladly send you to them!"

"You will be made to pay for our comrades, you coward!" the leader shouted. " _And_ you will pay for your foolish words of insult!"

With swords drawn, the men stalked towards their table and Mia suddenly realized the position she was in – between Hook and his pursuers.

"Mia, get down!" ordered Hook, stepping forward and flinging her aside.

Swords clashed. Mia stifled a scream and retreated until her back was to the far wall. People were watching in fascination. Others were running from the pub. Mia wished she could join them, but the fight was happening between her and the exit, and her eyes were helplessly fixated on the duelists.

Hook was a formidable swordsman. And strangely, there was almost a beauty to the way he fought. It was so graceful. Not like his opponent, whose footwork paled in comparison and who lacked the same finesse which Hook displayed with his rapier. Nevertheless, the man was not to be trifled with. At the moment, they appeared evenly matched.

Mia was glad they did not all attack Hook at once. They were already sore about being labeled as cowards; perhaps they did not wish that accusation to be validated by ambushing Hook completely. But that didn't mean they were above playing dirty.

"TAKE HIS WOMAN!" shouted the man fighting Hook.

Mia watched in horror as one of the four pirates strode towards her. With her back against the wall, there was no escape. As he neared, she attempted to dart to the side, but he quickly hooked an arm around her waist and slung her over his shoulder. Dizzy and disoriented, Mia could only hang upside-down against the sweaty, smelly back as the sound of steel continued to clash throughout the pub.

"HOW DARE YOU!" shouted Hook. "Interjecting an uninvolved woman into this battle? You want to talk cowardice, _that's_ cowardice!" With impressive strength, Hook shoved his opponent backwards.

The pirate holding Mia laughed. "Who says we're gettin' her all interjected? We're pirates, mate! We just takes what we likes... and we _really_ like this here lass." He gave Mia's bottom a solid swat for emphasis.

"H-HEY! YOU PERVERTED CREEP!" she shouted, but was roughly jostled for her efforts.

"Ooh... Lookie here. She's got 'er name written on 'er bloomers. Victoria's Secret. Well, well, Victoria... Let's see what the big secret is under these here drawers o' yours." He dumped Mia onto her back on the bar and crawled on top of her.

"BAD FORM!" Hook shouted at the man who mounted Mia as a second man moved in to attack him.

Hook deflected his sword with his rapier before driving his hook into the man's shoulder. The man screamed as Hook withdrew his steel appendage and kicked him in the chest, sending him staggering backwards, clutching his bloody shoulder wound.

Before Hook could run to Mia's aid, the first man who attacked lunged again. Hook quickly sidestepped him and the man fell into the table, spilling Silver's ale. Regaining his senses, the man reached into his sash to draw a pistol, but Silver, who until now had been content to remain uninvolved in Hook's affairs, smashed a dinner plate over the man's head.

"Ye spilled me ale, ya cadaverous sod!"

The pirate atop Mia hesitated when he saw what had become of his mates. "HEY, YOU SON OF A—"

Mia took advantage of his hesitation and threw a right hook into his jaw. The blow sent the man tumbling off the bar.

"Arrgh! The lass has got some some fire in 'er!" he said, rubbing his wounded jaw. "C'mere!"

Mia screamed and rolled off the counter only to be caught by the fourth pirate who had yet to engage. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her to him as he buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep sniff.

"Mmm. Perhaps we'll be takin' this girl as a token o' yer sympathies for our fallen comrades, Cap'n!" he taunted Hook. "What say you to that, eh?" He took a rough grasp of Mia's chin as he trailed his tongue along the side of her face.

"HOOK! HELP!"

Those were certainly two words she never thought she'd hear strung together, and yet she'd been the one to utter them. Hook's eyes burned with a murderous hatred for the man who held her in his captive embrace.

"You are not worthy to touch that woman, you wretched piece of slime-encrusted flotsam!" he shouted. "You _will_ unhand her!"

"Ooh. Not worthy ta touch 'er, am I?" said the pirate with raised eyebrows. "Such passionate fury. This girl must be quite the catch indeed!"

In Hook's blind spot, the man he'd stabbed in the shoulder struggled to his feet and was advancing, looking to stab Hook from behind. Mia opened her mouth to call out a warning, but she never got the chance. Whether it was the shifting of her eyes that clued him in or his own intuition, Hook lifted his right arm and thrust his rapider beneath it with his left, running the man through in a single fluid motion without ever turning his gaze.

Blood gurgled from the man's mouth and he crumpled to the floor. Mia winced and averted her gaze, suddenly feeling rather sick. She'd never seen a man killed before, and certainly not in so grisly a fashion. At the very least, Hook was formidable, and Mia was counting on him to save her. Hook stalked towards her captor.

"Unhand her, or I'll make your lucky survival a very brief one!"

However, the man who held her did not seem keen on releasing her. "You killed me mate," he growled. "That ain't exactly given me much incentive not ta be doin' the same to yer wench 'ere." He brought his sword to Mia's throat.

Hook hesitated. There was little he could do to free Mia from this man's grasp. And no one was exactly jumping to assist him. They feared him too much, and the idea that he was now apparently targeted by the Sea Witch made people even less inclined to help.

Preoccupied with Mia's dire predicament, Hook did not see the leader rising from the table where Silver had hit him. The man gave his head a small shake. He did not seem to recall who had struck him the blow over the head, but his murderous glare was on Hook as he quietly stole forward with his flintlock pointed at Hook's back.

"BEHIND YOU!" Mia shouted.

Hook spun around just in time. Before the man could fire his pistol, Hook cast anchor in his stomach. The gun went off. The shot whizzed past Mia and her captor. It came so close that Mia felt her hair lifting in the accompanying wind. The bullet found its mark in the shelf behind the bar, shattering a bottle of liquor.

Her captor thusly distracted, Mia saw her chance at freedom and darted across the room, taking refuge beneath an unoccupied table. Here, she hoped she would be safe from the crossfire and remaining scoundrels looking to take her hostage. The gun which had been dropped by the man Hook had just killed lay within her reach.

_No, I... I really shouldn't. I'd only make things worse. But maybe... at least to keep it out of_ their _hands... and if it becomes absolutely necessary to defend myself..._

Slowly, Mia reached for the gun.

With Mia free from the pirate's clutches, Hook was clear to advance. This man would pay most dearly for threatening Mia's life. But before Hook could properly punish the miscreant, the pirate Mia had decked across the jaw came at him, brandishing his sword.

"You think this a wise move?" asked Hook. "I'll cut you down like a dog, just as I did your mates. If you have a brain in your head, you'd relish your survival from the Sea Witch's wrath and flee now!"

The man didn't answer. Instead, he let out a yell as he came at Hook, steel meeting steel.

"Well," said Hook with a vicious grin. "That answers my inquiry about your brain, doesn't it?"

The fight continued. The remaining patrons went ducking for cover, while Silver simply sat at his table, lighting a smoke and enjoying the show. It was a rare treat to watch Captain Jas Hook engage in a fight which didn't end with him running from something that wanted to devour him.

The pirate made such brutish swings with his cutlass. He had power, but lacked true skill. Hook dodged and deflected the blows easily.

"Brute strength is not enough if you wish to tangle with me," Hook warned him. "You lack the necessary skill. Disengage now and I will spare your life."

"Ha! That's some purty big talk from a man afraid of a croc!"

That did it. Mia averted her gaze as Hook ran him through.

"Die... like the idiotic sea dog you are!"

That was three down, but Hook did not have long to revel in his victory, for he suddenly felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the base of his skull.

"Don't even think about movin'," the remaining pirate hissed. "Yer a dead man, James Hook."

And, indeed, it would seem that this was the case. With his sword still buried in his previous opponent's midsection and a gun pressed to the back of his head, Hook found himself in a truly hopeless situation. Was this to be the end of Jas Hook?

Hook's forget-me-nots were at full bloom as the last member of the quartet got the drop on him, ready to make himself famous by being the man to successfully kill the notorious Captain Hook. No doubt in this moment, the man fancied himself the new legend of the Dizgaian Seas. _Survivor of the Sea Witch's wrath and killer of Captain Hook_ likely had a nice ring to it in his mind.

For Hook, it was an embarrassment to be caught off his guard by a fool like this. He'd been certain his inevitable end would have been on the deck of the Jolly Roger, or perhaps on the soil of Neverland in a final duel to the death with his aggravating but no-less-worthy opponent, Pan. He certainly hadn't pictured it being at the hands of some no-name sea wolf who got lucky. Despite Hook's attempts to even the score, the numbers game caught up with him.

"If this is how it ends," he said through clenched teeth, "get on with it and make yourself famous, idjit."

Mia remained hunkered down, trembling beneath the table. Though he'd defeated three of his four opponents, Hook had lost the battle. Now... now he was going to die. Mia didn't want to see him die, but what could she possibly do to stop it? Slowly, she gazed down at the gun in her hand.

_Woah, woah. No, no, no. Don't even think about it, Mia. A gun is one thing, but you've never fired a flintlock before. Besides, if Hook dies, you're free. You're no longer his prisoner._

And yet, if Hook were to die, she could very well become someone else's prisoner – a prisoner to this pirate, or perhaps another. She wasn't exactly in friendly territory.

_But maybe not,_ she thought. _What if you were to take Silver up on his offer and stay with him at the Governor's manor, at least until you figured out something better? Besides, who's to say a benevolent pirate or privateer might not..._

Oh, who was she kidding? When it came to pirates, Hook's company was the safest. He didn't intend to kill her or do unspeakable things to her. The same could not be said of other pirates.

As the man cocked the pistol, a single line entered Mia's head, spoken by a familiar voice from her past.

_'Thus perished James Hook.'_

Mia closed her eyes, feeling the tears streaming down her cheeks. From a very young age, even while she was rooting for Peter Pan, she had felt pity for Captain Hook. And it was pity she felt for him now; pity and something else that stirred deep within her. This was not how the story ended, not with Hook dying at the hands of a second-rate scoundrel.

As Hook prepared himself for death, he heard the loud bang. And yet... he still stood. The black shroud of death did not engulf him. Instead, he heard the man's pistol drop to the floor, followed by a scream and a curse. Hook turned to see his would-be assassin clutching his bleeding shoulder.

"That blasted wench! That blasted wench got me in the shoulder!"

Behind the pirate, Hook saw Mia standing with her feet shoulders-width apart, a flintlock held in her trembling hands. The lovely, feisty artist had saved his life.

"Mia..."

Slowly, the girl lowered the gun. Her face paled and she swayed on her feet, looking as though she might swoon. Hook shoved the bleeding man out of the way and ran to her, catching her before she could fall to the floor.

"Mia?"

The girl was in shock.

"Mia!"


	35. Escape From Puerto Dorado

_"Do I_ have _to do this?" asked Mia, donning a pair of padded earmuffs._

_"It's just the shooting range, Mia. It's not like we're hunting down Bambi's mother."_

_"I just don't believe in guns is all. I think it's wrong. People should just go back to using swords. It's more sporting."_

_Edward Baxter replied with that familiar, lighthearted laugh. "And I suppose you'd prefer people solve their differences by slapping one another with a glove and challenging them to a duel?"_

_"Exactly."_

_"Look," he said, trying to sound serious despite the obvious laughter still bubbling beneath the surface. "You don't have to carry one. You don't have to_ believe _in them. I just want you to know how to shoot one in case a time comes where you're ever in a situation where you might need to use one."_

_"I don't think that's likely, Dad."_

_"Humor me," he said, handing her Smith and Wesson 9 mm handgun. "Just this once."_

_"Ugh. Fine."_

_Muffled shots echoed in her covered ears as she emptied the chamber, leaving the target filled with a series of holes._

_"Holy crap, honey! Look at you! You're a crackerjack shot!"_

_"Crackerjack? What are you, 100 years old?"_

_"Says the girl who talks like she was born in the 1800s. At least I know you can shoot if you ever needed to."_

_"Again, never going to happen."_

"Mia!"

Mia opened her eyes. Hook was gazing down at her with those soft blue forget-me-nots.

"Mia, are you well?"

"I-I didn't want to kill anyone," she said tremulously, tears welling in her eyes.

"You didn't, darling," he assured her, carefully brushing back strands of hair from her face with his hook. "You missed. Well... that is... you got him, but you only clipped him on the shoulder."

"Th-That's what I was a-aiming for."

"Were you?" he asked in surprise. "Well, mission accomplished, Mia. You got him." His hand came to her cheek, gently caressing it. "You saved my life."

The injured pirate, temporarily forgotten, took the opportunity to reach for his discarded pistol. But just as his fingers brushed against it, a wooden crutch descended, cracking him on the skull. The man tumbled to the floor with a shriek, clutching his head.

"I should think ye'd have learned yer lesson, lad," said Silver. "Ye've survived an encounter with the kraken. If ye wish to live ta tell the tale, I suggest ye leave well enough alone. Only a fool squanders 'is good fortune the way ye and yer mates have done."

The pirate staggered to his feet, clutching his wounded shoulder. He appraised Silver, as though deciding whether or not he could take the old pirate. But whatever he saw in the face of the wizened old sea wolf must have convinced him that Silver, despite his age and affliction, was still formidable and not to be trifled with. With one last murderous glare at Hook and Mia, the pirate turned heel and stumbled out the door.

Silver hobbled to where Hook and Mia stood, smiling his crooked smile at them. "A spectacular display, that. While ye've left quite the mess, I was pleased to have had the privilege o' watchin' the two o' ya outwit yer adversaries."

Elsewhere in the pub, a defiant voice rose up. "Aye, but it ain't helped matters!" An old sailor with a graying beard and a milky-white eye rose up from his hiding place at the far end of the bar. "What ya done, Captain... it ain't helped matters!"

Hook's eyes narrowed at the old man. "What are you blathering about?"

"Thems men," said the man, shaking with nerves, "They were foolish ta attack yeh... but they were right! If'n the Sea Witch is searchin' for ya... yer gonna bring her wrath here! Yer bein' here is gonna doom us all!"

Others added their voices as well.

"Tha's right! She sank The Jewel and killed all but four o' the crew in 'er search for Hook! She may come here lookin' for 'im!"

"She'd sink the 'ole island with her sea monsters ta' find 'im, if she had to!"

Even Ninette joined in. "James," she said with all the authority of the new proprietor. "I think it's best if you and your wench leave my pub. I shan't have any more disturbances of the kind ye partook in, nor do I wish to be in the Sea Witch's crosshairs."

"Hear, hear!"

"Aye!"

"Tell 'em to leave, Silver!"

"Leave Puerto Dorado! Leave Isla Tesoro!"

"It ain't fair to bring the wrath of the Sea Witch upon innocent folk!"

The din grew louder and there was the stamping of several feet as the pub's patrons converged, en masse, upon Hook and Mia. Hook glared at all who surrounded them.

"You dare tell Hook what to do? You think you can give orders to _me_?"

"They may all not 'ave the confidence ta send ya off personally, Jim-boy, but I'm afraid that I do," said Silver.

"What?" exclaimed Hook, rounding on him. "But not long ago you were just offering us a place to stay!"

"An offer I be rescindin'," said Silver with an aggrieved sigh. "I may not be as ravenous as these folks 'bout sendin' ye off, but I'm afraid I can't be disagreein' with 'em. I was warnin' ya, Jim. The seas ain't ours ta command anymore. But ya' chose ta ignore me warnings. If me citizens think it best that you and yours leave... then I must be agreein' with 'em. I think it's time the Jolly Roger set sail."

"Fools!" shouted Hook, glaring round at all of them. "Every last one of you! You all take some superstitious blather from these perished morons as gospel, do you?" he said, gesturing to the bodies on the floor. "Isla Tesoro is supposed to be a safe haven for _all_ pirates! And there's no pirate more renowned than Captain James Hook! And yet at the first mention of the word _kraken..._ "

He spoke this word as though to intentionally frighten the crowd. He succeeded, for they all jumped and took a step back from him.

"... you all become lily-livered land-lubbers, ready to betray one of your own. Idiots, the lot of you!" he admonished. "Listen and listen well. I fear no kraken and I fear no sea witch! I am James Hook, captain of the Jolly Roger, and the _only_ man on the seas worth a damn any longer! If you wish me gone, then so be it! I'll gather my crew and leave of my own accord. But consider yourselves warned. For if I return... I'LL CAST ANCHOR IN ANYONE WHO DARES STAND IN MY WAY!"

The pub patrons exchanged glances. Then, wordlessly, they parted to create a path for Hook and Mia to exit the pub. It seemed these people posed no danger to them, so long as Hook did as they asked. Hook gave Silver one last dirty look before turning his back on the old pirate. If Hook had his way, it would be the _last_ time he'd see his former captain.

Hook wrapped an arm around Mia and led her gently through the pub. Still trembling, Mia clung tightly to him. The fear and anger in the atmosphere were palpable, and Mia knew those two emotions could be a dangerous combination and incite folks to riot. She did not wish to be a casualty of such an event.

As they stepped out of La Cantina, Mia blinked at the bright sunlight. The outside seemed like an entirely different world from the one she'd witnessed inside the pub. It was brighter, quieter, and calmer – which was saying something, as the town, by its very nature, was a rough and rowdy one.

They walked arm in arm down the cobblestone streets, Mia growing stronger with every step they put between them and La Cantina. Hook kept stealing glances at her, looking like he wanted to say something, but they continued on wordlessly. Once they'd made it to the edge of town, Hook turned to her with an expression she would not have expected of a man who'd been ordered to leave town. He looked positively elated as he lifted her off her feet and spun her around.

"You were absolutely brilliant, darling! Positively smashing!"

"But I didn't want to hurt anyone," she insisted as he set her back to her feet. She was not so sure she should be proud of shooting a man.

"You only maimed him, Mia. We let the man leave with his life intact, which was more than he deserved. He survived death on the sea just so he and his comrades could squander their salvaged lives. It was tragic, but it was their own doing. He was lucky not have suffered the same fate as his companions." Hook crossed his arms and shook his head regretfully. "I don't take the lives of my fellow buccaneers without reason, Mia. I'm not completely merciless. But they gave me little choice in the matter."

"But I still shouldn't have," she said, tears in her eyes. "I just... I just..."

"You had to," he finished for her. "In the moment, you did what you thought was right, and I couldn't be prouder of you for it."

His words almost sounded like the sort of words she'd hear from her adoptive father. Her adoptive father... Why was she suddenly drawing a blank on his name?

Misinterpreting the look of panic on her face for one of remorse, Hook made another attempt at reassuring her. "You saved a man's life, darling," he said, caressing her cheek tenderly. "Surely that counts for something." He frowned, his hand hesitating in its ministrations. "Or is it that you feel the life you saved wasn't worthy; the life of a villain?"

Mia tried to recall what all had gone through her mind in the moment. Was saving Hook's life merely a selfish motivation on her part, knowing if he died what the alternative would be for her? Or was there more to it than that? Was there a part of her that had saved him simply because she truly did not want him to die?

Hook must've mistaken her silence for affirmation, for he frowned and said, "If saving the life of a villain like myself is not enough justification for wounding that man, then at least consider the repercussions if you hadn't. If that man had killed me, he may have kidnapped you. Yes, that's nothing I haven't done to you myself, but surely you know what vile, reprehensible thing those men intended to do to you, do you not?"

Mia recalled the way the man had pinned her beneath him on the bar.

_"Let's see what the big secret is under these here drawers o' yours."_

Swallowing, Mia nodded.

"Then take comfort, Mia, that in saving me, you saved yourself."

Gone was his excitement, his elation. The bright light in his eyes had disappeared, and Mia knew that he was hurt by the thought that she regretted saving his life.

"Come," he said, motioning for her to follow him.

As they continued on down the strangely quiet streets of Puerto Dorado, Mia tried to think of what to say to him. She did not regret saving his life. It had not been purely for selfish reasons, although her own self-preservation had played a part in her decision. How could she explain to him that her reasoning ran deeper than that? How could she explain that saving his life had been the result of a childhood memory, of pity for the man who lost his hand and, later, his life to a crocodile? If she revealed that, the ending of James Barrie's story, she would subsequently reveal the dangerous truth about herself, the truth he must not know.

Mia had just reconciled how to explain to him why she'd saved him without giving too much away when a voice shouted out from behind them.

"There they are!"

The last remaining man from the pub brawl stood at the head of an angry mob, pointing his finger in Hook and Mia's direction. The lone survivor of the duel against Hook had taken to the streets of Puerto Dorado and spread the news of what had transpired in the pub, calling to arms any who would see Captain Hook and the Jolly Roger away from Isla Tesoro.

Mia saw flintlocks and cutlasses raised in the air, accompanied by a mass of angry shouts accosting them with oaths and curses. One man's voice rose above the others.

"Ye'd best start runnin', James Hook! Meanin' no disrespect, but if it's between you and us, we choose us! Now get you goin' or we'll be buryin' you in Dead Man's Cove!"

"More contradictory words were never spoken!" Hook shouted back. "Are you not content to just order me to leave? You intend to run me out of town? This is absolutely preposterous!"

But no one was interested in debating with him the proper etiquette behind running a person out of town. A warning shot was fired into the air, signaling the end of such discussions.

Hook turned his wide-eyed gaze to Mia. "Now," he said, "would be a good time to run."

He grabbed her hand and dashed down the street as the mob gave chase. They weren't the only ones. Mia spotted other men from Hook's crew being similarly pursued. Hook pulled Mia along behind him as bullets whizzed through the air.

"They're shooting at us!" she cried, aghast.

"Yes. I've noticed, dear," he panted in cadence to his running. "They're only warning shots for now, but that could change if we're not quick. Hurry now!"

Mia did her best to keep up, but it wasn't easy in heeled boots. Hook was practically dragging her in his haste. More shots rang out as pirates and townsfolk alike fired their pistols. Despite Hook's assurances to the contrary, it was hard to believe they weren't shooting _at_ them. Mia screamed with each sharp report. As they turned a corner, Mia stumbled. Her hand slipped from Hook's grasp and she fell to the ground, twisting her ankle.

"Ngh!"

Hook spun around. "Mia! Blast it all!"

He ran back to her, but the mob was gaining. They were out of time. He could still make a break for it if he went on alone, but he refused to leave Mia at the mercy of the ravenous crowd. Over his dead body would she be harmed! And sadly, if he wanted to protect her, it seemed that was his only option. Hook leapt in front of Mia, placing himself between her and the oncoming mob.

Drawing his sword, he glanced over his shoulder and shouted to her. "Mia! Run! Get to the ship! Hobble, crawl if you must. But go! Hurry!"

"B-But what about you?" she stammered, nursing her ankle.

"I'll hold them off as long as I can. Get to the ship and tell the crew – what's there – to cast off."

"But we can't leave without _you_!"

"You can and you will, Mia!"

"But then... but then you'll die!"

"Then so be it," he said, swiping his hat off his head with his hook and tossing it aside. His long black hair billowed in the breeze, and to Mia he'd never looked more handsome or more formidable. "To die protecting an innocent maiden is a noble death. A hero's death... Is it not, Mia?"

"Hook... no..." she murmured.

"Go!"

"But—"

"Damn it, you stubborn, girl! Do as I say. GO! NOW!"

Mia scrambled to her feet and moved at a fast hobble down the street. She was tempted to steal one last glance at the man who was to die in order to save her life, but she dared not look back. She didn't want to see him die, nor did she want to linger and risk capture herself and make his sacrifice for naught.

As she ran, those awful, tragic words rang in her ears.

_Thus perished James Hook._

Hook stared down his enemies, steeling himself for the battle that was to come... his final battle. Two shots rang out, causing him to wince. But he'd not been harmed, nor had those shots come from the oncoming mob. They had been fired into the crowd from another direction. Two men fell dead as Billie Howe arrived on the scene, holding two smoking pistols, his shirt open and fluttering around his bare chest like a vest. His hair was disheveled and eyes wild as he darted in front of the captain and faced the oncoming mob.

"Mr. Howe!" Hook exclaimed.

"Tha's right, Cap'n! Get you goin'. I'll handle this lot!"

"Not on your own, you can't!"

"Don't worry about me, Cap'n! Save yourself!"

"Don't be a fool, Billie!"

"No more foolish than you, with all due respect, Cap'n. Now hurry! Get outta here!"

"I am _not_ leaving without you, Billie!" Hook shouted desperately, already knowing there was nothing he could do to change his friend's mind.

"Go on!" said Billie. "Save yer girl! She's special to ya', right?"

"What are you blathering about?" Hook demanded, but he could not deny Billie's words. Of course the girl was special to him! But what did Billie know of it? Hook supposed they'd been friends long enough for Billie to know when his captain cared for a woman, and it certainly wasn't often. Still, that didn't mean he wanted to choose between the girl he fancied and his best friend!

"Billie! She's not the only one! You know that I... that you're my..." For the first time Hook found himself at a loss for words as the tight fist of emotion gripped his throat.

"Ah, don't say it, Cap'n," said Billie, shaking his head, though his voice was tremulous with emotion. "Yer Captain James Hook. Don't spare ye mushy sentiments on the likes o' me. 'Sides," he glanced over his shoulder at his captain and offered him a winning grin. "I already know, Jim."

"Damn it, Billie! Just—"

"A life for a life, Cap'n! Today, I repay my debt to ya."

"I didn't save your life all those years ago because I wanted something in return, Billie!"

Why were his eyes prickling? What foul water dared besmirch the formidable gaze of James Hook?

"I know ye didn't, Jim. And I ain't repayin' yeh just 'cause I feels like I owes ya."

"Then why throw your life away, Billie?" asked Hook desperately, as the mob loomed closer and closer.

"The same reason you risked yers to save mine, Jim. Don't make me spell it out for ya. That wouldn't be in good form now, would it?"

"Billie!"

The angry mob was closing in. Soon it would be too late.

"Damn it, James! RUN!"

After a final moment of hesitation, Hook sheathed his sword. "I'll wait for you, Billie!"

"But if I shouldn't come..."

"Then I'll—"

"Then you'll weigh anchor!" shouted Billie, giving his first and final orders to the captain.

"Then... then I'll weigh anchor," said Hook with tremulous resignation. "Godspeed, William."

"GO!"

Hook turned and ran.

Billie Howe faced the coming onslaught of ravenous humanity. Laughing in the face of death, he pointed his dual pistols at the crowd.

"C'mon then! Have at thee!"

Mia hurried at a limping gait down the cobblestone streets of Puerto Dorado. She saw the harbor far ahead and could just make out the Jolly Roger where it sat in dock. But she feared she was not going fast enough to make it before the crowd overtook her. She heard gunshots behind her, but dare not look back, fearing that she'd see James Hook's lifeless body lying on the ground, his long raven hair tinged red with his blood. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she'd no time to wipe them. She had to keep going. Hook's death must not be in vain.

She heard footsteps behind her and tried to go faster, but she couldn't outrun them. An arm snaked around her and she was lifted off her feet. Mia screamed, but a familiar voice reassured her.

"It's me!"

"Hook?"

Sure enough, he'd caught up to her and was now carrying her in his arms. Relieved, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're alive!"

"Yes, for now. Let's try and keep it that way, shall we? Hold tight, dear."

Mia glanced over his shoulder and saw Billie Howe standing off against the mob where Hook had stood moments before.

"MR. HOWE!" she shouted. "OH MY GOD! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!"

"Eyes forward, Mia! Don't look back!"

"But... but he's going to die!"

"Mr. Howe has made his decision. He's allowing us the chance to escape."

An amalgamation of emotions fluttered through Mia's heart – relief, fear, dismay, and pity. They may make it out of this yet, but there was still a lingering threat, and Mr. Howe was sacrificing his life to save theirs. And thus would perish James Hook's only true friend. Tears stung her eyes, but she averted her gaze, praying that she would not hear the sound of Billie Howe being run down.

They were nearing the docks. The skeleton crew Hook had left in charge were already aboard. Other men from Hook's crew who'd similarly been chased out of town ran ahead of them up the gang plank. Smee stood at the bulwarks looking down at them in confusion.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's happened?"

"Prepare to set sail, Mr. Smee!" Hook shouted as he carried Mia up the gangplank.

"But all the crew ain't back yet, Cap'n."

"DO AS I SAY!"

"A-Aye, Cap'n."

Smee piped up the crew, what remained of it, and called all hands to deck. "We're puttin' out to sea, lads!" he screeched. Then, furrowing his brow and looking about, he said, "Dear, dear... Where is Mr. Starkey? 'E should be the one givin' these orders."

"Here he comes now, Mr. Smee!" shouted Cecco, pointing towards the docks.

The quartermaster, Gentleman Starkey, was running up the docks like his life depended on it. Smee stood at the top of the gangplank and called down to him.

"You'll wanna move faster than that, Starkey! The captain's in a right foul mood! Wants ta' put out ta' sea in a hurry and he ain't waitin' on no one! Don't know why he's bein' so hasty, me'self, but—"

"MOVE, SMEE!" shouted Starkey, shoving Smee aside as he boarded.

Smee gazed out beyond the docks and saw the herd of angry pirates and townsfolk running down the center street and making for the harbor.

"Ah..." he said. "Now I gets it."

Starkey exchanged a panicked look with the captain. Hook nodded. Starkey cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted to the crew.

"WEIGH ANCHOR!"

The men rushed to the capstan. With grunts and rippling muscles, they turned the winch. Hook stood center deck with Mia in his arms, his eyes searching the harbor for any sign of Billie Howe.

"LET OUT THE SAILS!" ordered Starkey.

"BELAY THAT!" shouted Hook.

Starkey gaped confusedly at him. "But... but cap'n—"

"Billie Howe's still out there!"

"There are many of our men still out there, cap'n," Starkey reminded him somewhat tentatively, afraid of inciting Hook's wrath.

"Just a little longer," snapped Hook. Then, muttering under his breath so only Mia could hear him, "Come on, Billie... Come on, damn it..."

There was no sign of Billie Howe. Only the angry mob, drawing ever closer to the docks. Pirates were boarding their ships and readying their cannons.

"Captain!" said Starkey, turning to Hook in a panic. "They're preparing to fire on us!"

Hook cursed through his teeth. Mia could almost see his internal struggle. It showed in every inch of his face. This inner turmoil, though intense, lasted only a moment before Hook regained his senses and became the formidable captain of the Jolly Roger once more.

"FETCH LONG TOM! READY THE CANNONS! LET OUT THE SAILS!"

There was a rush to follow his orders. The cannons were drawn forward across the deck. The wind caught the sails and the Jolly Roger turned its broadside to the other ships in dock. One of the ships in the harbor was the first to fire. The cannonball plunged through the Jolly Roger's bulwarks and out the other side, tearing up bits of the deck as it went. Mia screamed and tightened her grip around Hook's neck

"BLOW THEM AWAY!" shouted Hook. "ALL OF THEM! TAKE OUT THE WHOLE HARBOR!"

"Aye, Cap'n!"

The Jolly Roger's cannons fired. There was an explosion as two ships went up in flames. Return shots pelted the hull of the Jolly Roger. Mia screamed and buried her face in Hook's shoulder.

"JUKES!" called Hook.

Bill Jukes arrived on the double.

"Take her," he ordered, passing Mia into the arms of the strapping young cabin boy. "Carry her to my cabin! Careful, she's injured her ankle."

"Aye, Cap'n!"

"Lock her in, Jukes!"

"Hook!" Mia shouted over Bill Jukes' shoulder as he carried her away.

"It's for your own safety, Mia!"

By the time Mia had formulated a reply, Hook was far out of earshot, and there was no chance of hearing anyway over the noise of the cannon fire. Bill Jukes carried her into the cabin and set her gently upon Hook's bed.

"Bill, wait!" said Mia as he turned towards the door.

Bill Jukes glanced back at her and offered an apologetic smile. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss Baxter, but it's the captain's orders, and ones I be agreein' with. Ye'll be much safer in here. I promise it'll all be over soon. The captain's got everythin' well in hand."

"But—"

Bill Jukes shut the door behind him. Mia heard him turn the lock. There was no escaping. How did Hook expect her to remain calm locked inside the cabin, not knowing what was going on? But perhaps there was still a way she could see. Mia stood up, wincing as she put weight on her bad ankle. It wasn't broken, but definitely a mild sprain. Grimacing, she hobbled to the large window at the back of the cabin. She knelt on the red cushioned bench which ran the length of the window and peered out.

She wasn't at the best angle, but when she pressed her cheek against the glass and looked far to the right, she could just make out the other ships in dock and the volley of cannon fire flying from the Jolly Roger and smashing into the hulls of the enemy ships. Two ships retaliated with cannon fire and chain shot, but as they were still docked, they were at a serious disadvantage. The Jolly Roger had the benefit of having already weighed anchor, and the wind was on their side.

A cannon ball from an enemy ship flew past the window, barely missing the cabin. The resulting sound drowned out Mia's scream. The cannonball plunged into the water with such a powerful splash that the resulting wave rocked the ship violently and water smashed against the window with such force that it threatened to shatter the glass. Hairline fractures appeared on the panes, but the window otherwise held. Mia counted her lucky stars that she should be so fortunate. If that cannon ball had come just a little closer...

She didn't dare think it.

She wondered if perhaps it might be best if she moved away from the window, but that close shave was the last of its kind. With a final volley of cannon fire from the Jolly Roger, there was a great explosion and Puerto Dorado's harbor went up in flames, ships and all. Mia covered her mouth, gazing in horror at the devastation. Bits of debris from the ships and the docks rained down into the water. How many pirates had just died? Hook had blown them all away! For a moment, Mia was struck by his callousness. How could he? But then, she considered the alternatives if he hadn't.

The pirates of Puerto Dorado were not content to just chase them out of town. They had boarded their ships and were the first to fire. They had intended to take down the Jolly Roger. If Hook had merely attempted to flee, the other ships – at least three from what Mia could tell – would have given chase and blown the Jolly Roger to smithereens. Three against one, Hook and his crew wouldn't have stood a chance. For his own self-preservation and that of his crew – _And mine,_ thought Mia – Hook did what he had to. It was a good call; the _only_ call.

Mia slumped back against the window frame with her bad leg elevated on the bench. She felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of her. Never before in her 19 years would she have ever imagined that she would see the sort of things she witnessed today. Dueling pirates, an angry mob, gunfire, cannon fire, pirate ships engaged in battle, mass destruction... And Billie Howe. What had become of him?

She feared the worst. When last they'd left him, he was facing down the angry mob, many of whom were armed with swords and pistols. Billie may have gotten in a few good shots, but could he have really survived an encounter against so many? It didn't seem likely. After all, the mob had gotten passed him, hadn't they? They'd made it to the docks, had boarded their ships in an effort to destroy the Jolly Roger and finish off Hook. That meant that Billie Howe...

Suddenly, it was as though a rock were sitting in her throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow. She'd not known the man long. Hell, she'd only just met him. But he had died so that she and Hook may live, and that was enough to fill her with emotions powerful enough to shake her to her very core. Billie Howe had made the ultimate sacrifice, and Mia knew not a day would go by that she wouldn't think of the man, the stranger, who'd saved her life.

Mia drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. She didn't know how long she'd sat like that when the cabin door flew open and Hook entered as though riding a whirlwind. She glanced up and watched him storm about his cabin, knocking over dishes and candles, overturning chairs and throwing his maps off the charting table. Mia half suspected he'd forgotten her, as he barely acknowledged her presence.

Hook threw open the door to his liquor cabinet and seized a bottle, bringing it the table. Holding the neck of the bottle in the curve of his hook, he attempted to remove the cork, but was proving unsuccessful. Finally, he gave up, placing his hand and hook at the edge of the table as he leaned over it and closed his eyes. His shoulders shook with the emotion he so desperately wished to keep at bay.

Hoping she wasn't about to make a potentially volatile situation worse, Mia rose to her feet and limped across the room to him. Hook glanced up sharply at her approach, and her suspicion was confirmed. He'd quite forgotten her presence. The look on his face said as much. It was one of shock and dismay, as though horrified that she should see him like this. His eyes had a glossy shine to them, and Mia had a sinking, heart wrenching suspicion that he was on the verge of weeping. It wasn't any wonder he was glaring at her so. Anyone else catching him at such a moment of weakness could well be punished under pain of death.

Wordlessly, Mia took the bottle and corkscrew from him and opened the port. Then, with trembling hands, she poured a glass and handed it to him. For a moment, Hook studied her silently. Then he knocked back the drink, downing it in one draught. Mia watched as he poured himself a second glass and was amazed to discover that his hand was shaking just as much as hers had been. Hook gazed at the full glass, then glanced at Mia and silently offered it to her. When Mia shook her head, he brought the glass to his lips and downed it himself. He set the empty glass back on the table with a loud thunk, as though disgusted with himself for over-indulging.

"I had to leave without him," he said hoarsely, his eyes fixed on the table. "He told me to. I didn't have a choice." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of this than Mia. "And now... it seems my dear friend has gone to meet his maker."

Uncertain how to proceed, Mia instinctively raised her hand to touch him, then hesitated. Would he even want her to comfort him, or would he grow angry at the reminder that he was showing her a side of himself which he never wanted anyone to see? Throwing caution to the wind, Mia rested her hand on his arm. Hook glanced at her hand as though shocked and confused to find it there. Then, he turned his full gaze to her face.

"You wish to comfort me? James Hook? A villain?"

"You're still human," she said softly.

Suddenly, he pulled her into a crushing hug. Once she overcame her shock, Mia wrapped her arms around him and returned his embrace, offering this one comfort to a man who did not have many. No words passed between them. Only this one aching embrace which seemed to hold within it more than words could say. They had been through much together this day. Mia thought she could feel a lifetime of emotional torment radiating off of him. She could feel it in the way he held her. She could feel it in the tension of his every muscle.

The warmth of his embrace, that of a fellow tortured soul, felt so nice that Mia was hesitant to end it, and so she did her best to ignore the pain in her ankle as she stood there with him for however long; she'd lost all track of time. But eventually the discomfort sent her body into tremors and Hook took her shoulders and held her back at arms' length.

"What in blazes are you doing on your feet, girl?" he demanded, only now remembering her current malady. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed.

At first, Mia feared the repercussions of being placed on Hook's bed with him towering dominantly over her, but her concerns proved unfounded as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and began to untie her boot. Mia winced as he carefully removed it from her foot to inspect her ankle. It was red, bruised, and a little swollen. Gently, he trailed his fingers over it and began to caress it. At first, Mia tensed and hissed in pain, but as he continued, she began to feel soothed by his ministrations.

"That... that feels nice."

"Good. I'm afraid I can't do much more for you, but you'll want to stay off it for a couple days. Thankfully, we have plenty for you to occupy yourself with." He gestured to a corner of the cabin where the easels, canvasses, and paints from Lady Montoya's tienda sat, awaiting an ambitious painter to make something out of them.

"Captain?"

"What is it, dear?"

"Before Mr. Howe showed up, when the mob first started chasing us and I fell... you came back for me. You could have left me there and saved yourself. But... but you were willing to die so I could get away."

He lifted that single eyebrow at her, as was his trademark. "And you find that surprising."

She lowered her gaze. She feared offending him, but she wanted to be honest.

"Well... yes."

Hook sighed. "Yes, Mia. I was willing to do what I had to do to protect you. It would be bad form for any man to let a young woman die in such a gruesome fashion when he could prevent it."

"So, it was chivalry, then? Is that the only reason you did it? Because it was good form?"

Hook gazed so intensely at her for such a long time that Mia began to squirm beneath his penetrating gaze. "You know that's not it, Mia," he said quietly.

Mia lowered her gaze, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest, but this time it was not fear which stirred it.

"While we're on the subject," he said, resuming his ministrations to her foot, massaging it a bit more firmly, "Are you still feeling conflicted about saving _my_ life?"

Mia shook her head. "I never regretted it. I wish I didn't have to hurt anyone, but I didn't save you _just_ to save myself."

Hook paused and gazed up at her in surprise. For a moment, he seemed quite speechless, but finally, he returned his attentions to her foot, smiling.

"Thank you, Mia."

Mia smiled back.

"You're welcome... James."


	36. The Temple of Nev

**A week prior...**

****"Why are we doing this again?" moaned Slightly. He was clinging to Peter's back as Peter flew slow circles around Neverpeak, the tallest and centermost mountain on Neverland.

"I _told_ you," said Peter impatiently. "The Eye of Neverland is for Mia. If we give that to her, then she can always find Neverland, no matter where in the world she is. And if we ever want to see her again, we have to give it to her. Now get off! I gave you pixie dust! Stop riding me like a horse!"

Peter shoved Slightly off him. The Lost Boy tumbled through the air before righting himself and shooting off after Peter again.

"Why don't we just keep her?" asked Slightly. "Who says you gotta take her home? I thought she liked it here."

Peter shot Slightly an annoyed glare. "You wouldn't understand. But it's what I've got to do. Plus, she said she'd come visit if she could only find the island again." He stopped in midair and spun around to face Slightly with a dangerous look. "You _do_ want Mia to visit again, don't you?"

Slightly flushed. "Of course I do," he mumbled. "I just didn't think finding this hidden temple thing was gonna be so hard."

_"Legend has it," said Tiger Lily, "that the eye of Neverland is a mystical talisman, created by the ancients of this world. It is said that whoever should possess The Eye shall always find the island where dreams are born."_

_Peter already knew that much, but he let her go on. It wasn't what the Eye of Neverland_ did _that Peter wanted to know. It was how to find it._

_Tiger Lily didn't think it wise for Peter to be meddling in relics of the Ancient past, so it was with reluctance that she shared with him what she knew._

_"Within Never Mountain, an ancient guardian slumbers. It is said to be the Spirit of Neverland itself. An entrance to the caves is hidden somewhere on the mountain's face... where sunlight grows short and shadows grow long, and time moves at its own pace. If you find it, a few moments within will be as days outside. Be mindful in the Temple of Nev, Peter... and be careful."_

Keeping all this in mind, Peter had taken the Lost Boys with him to search for the entrance to the Temple of Nev. But they'd yet to discover any such entrance.

Suddenly, the Twins came zooming around from the other side of the mountain towards Peter, shouting in unison, "Look, look! We found something! Is this the eye, Peter?"

In their hands they held a large pink egg with white spots. Peter crossed his arms as he hovered in mid-air, frowning.

"That's not the eye. That's an egg. The Neverbird's egg, in fact. She's gonna be really mad if she finds out you've taken it. You'd better put it back. Besides, the eye is gonna be inside the Temple of Nev, which is _in_ the mountain. Did you forget what you're supposed to be looking for?"

"I told you it wasn't the eye!" said First Twin, giving the other a shove.

"Nuh uh! I told _you!_ " said Second Twin, shoving him back.

The two identical boys continued to shove one another and argue in mid-flight.

"SCRAAAAWWWK!"

An enormous bird with a long neck, bulging eyes, and shining rainbow-colored feathers came soaring through the air toward the Twins.

"AAAAHHHH!!!!"

"HELP! HELP!"

The Twins flew off, tossing the egg back and forth to one another, trying to out-fly the Neverbird.

Peter watched the Neverbird chase after the Twins. Normally, he'd laugh delightedly at such shenanigans and join in. But he hadn't much time for that sort of nonsense now. Cupping his mouth with his hands, he called after them.

"Just put it back where you found it and she'll leave you alone!"

When that small misadventure was over, the boys resumed their search. However, the longer they searched, the more morale began to drop. The Lost Boys grew tired and hungry, and happy thoughts were beginning to run low. Nibs, with Tootles holding onto his back, flew to Peter, Curly trailing behind.

"Peter, we've looked all over the mountain," said Nibs. "We can't find any entrance."

"Keep searching!" Peter snapped. There was a sort of desperation in his voice, for he hadn't much luck either and was becoming frustrated. "We've gotta search every nook and cranny of this mountain!"

"But Peter," whined Slightly, "It's such a big mountain! There's gotta be millions of nooks and crannies!"

"We're hungry, Peter," said Curly.

Tootles rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. "And sleepy..."

"Yeah, couldn't we take a little break?" asked Nibs.

"You're _not_ hungry!" Peter insisted impatiently. "You can't get..." He trailed off. In his frustration and impatience, he had almost disclosed a very morbid revelation, one which the Lost Boys must never learn. He'd even sworn Mia to secrecy over it. How could he have been the one to almost blow it? Silently admonishing himself, Peter thought about Mia and what she would say if she were here with them.

_Peter, don't be so hard on them. They're just little boys. Let them take a break. At least for a little while._

With a sigh, Peter said, "Fine. But _just_ for a few minutes. Tiger Lily said that the entrance is hidden somewhere on the mountain's face where the sunlight grows long. The later it gets, the less sunlight we'll have, and when the sun sets... Well, then we'll never find it!"

Peter led them to the place where the two giant trees merged like a bridge between the mountain peaks. He and the boys settled upon the thick, interwoven roots to have themselves a make-believe supper. When the Lost Boy's bellies were full, and Peter's filled with some fruits he had discreetly stolen from the treetops, they settled into the roots for a little nap.

"Just... for a few... minutes," yawned Peter. "Then... then it's back to searching."

_"Peter," said Tiger Lily. "You understand what I mean about time, right?"_

_"I think so, Lily. Do me a favor. Go get Mia. Take her to your village and keep her hidden there. Tell her I'll be back for her. A promise is a promise, and I intend to keep mine."_

_"But Peter, you understand it could be days or even—"_

_"That's why I need you to get Mia and explain everything. Tell her I'll be back as soon as I can. Tell her I'm doing this for her... and to trust me."_

When next Peter awoke, it was to the gray light of dawn, rising on a brand-new day. In a panic, he leaped to his feet. "I can't believe it!" he cried. "We slept too long! Lost Boys! Lost Boys, wake up!"

The Lost Boys began to rouse.

"Oh wow! We slept the whole night away," said Curly. "Who knew sleeping in a tree could be so comfortable?"

Peter was frantic. "Hurry up! Come on! We can't afford to waste any more time!"

"Peter," said Slightly. "You don't think maybe we should go back to Mia, do you? She must be worried about us."

"She's fine. Tiger Lily is looking after her. But we still have to hurry. Once we're in the Temple of Nev, time... it gets different."

"How, Peter?"

"Well, it's... it's hard to explain. It's just something Lily told me."

_'A few moments within will be as days outside.'_

"Come on," urged Peter. "We mustn't keep Mia waiting too long. She's got friends and family waiting for her. And now that the pirates are back, she's in danger. But first I need to give her the eye. That way she can always find me... er... so she can always find _us_."

The Lost Boys exchanged glances as they rose to their feet. Their leader was rarely this passionate about something. It wasn't often he deemed something so serious. And if this was important to Peter, it was important to them, too.

"Is anyone short on pixie dust?"

A couple test jumps revealed the Lost Boys were all in need of a fresh dose. Peter reached into the tiny pouch on his hip and sprinkled the dust over their heads. In seconds, they were off their feet and in the air, and the search began anew.

They searched for the better part of the morning with no more luck than they'd had the previous day. Peter pushed them, urged them to keep on with it. Now and then, they paused for a rest atop the mountain or in a nearby tree. But Peter was sure not to make the same mistake as last time. While the Lost Boys napped, Peter remained alert and woke them up when it was time to start searching again.

Any time morale began to drop, Peter spoke Mia's name, reminding the Lost Boys of the girl they'd developed such affection for, reminding them that they were doing this for her. More often than not, it seemed to help. It was just the motivation they needed. But motivation alone wasn't enough to help them find the entrance to the temple. As the sun set on another day, Peter had no choice but to take the boys back to the bridge-tree for a night's rest.

"Tomorrow," he murmured as he slowly drifted off to sleep. "Tomorrow will be the day."

The boys were not alone during their search the next day. A pair of eyes watched them from the shadows at the base of the mountain, a man named Billie Howe, faithful spy to Captain Hook. Nibs flew towards Peter with a look of panic.

"Someone's watching us," he whispered.

"Who?" said Peter quietly.

"I think it might be a pirate."

Peter looked contemplative. "Hook must have sent someone to spy on us," he said softly. Then, he called out, "Lost Boys, to me!"

The six boys flew to his side. As they huddled in midair, Peter spoke quietly to them. "Don't look now, but someone's watching us."

"Who?" said Curly, looking around.

Peter grabbed him by the ear and yanked him back.

"Ow!"

"I said don't look now, you ninny!"

"Sorry," mumbled Curly, rubbing his ear.

"It's one of Hook's men. We don't want it getting back to Hook what we're up to. So here's the plan – any time we speak about The Eye of Neverland, just call it, 'treasure.' We'll pretend we're going on a scavenger hunt. All right?"

"All right!"

"But why does it matter if they know what we're up to?" asked Slightly.

"Are you kidding?" asked Peter incredulously. "If Hook hears about the eye, he'll want it for himself. You don't want that kind of thing falling into the wrong hands."

"But it just helps the person find Neverland, right? Seems to me Hook already knows how to find the island."

Peter shook his head. "We don't really know what else it might be capable of. It's best to keep it a secret, all right? Oh, and whatever you do, don't talk about Mia out loud. We don't want Hook to know she's here."

The Lost Boys nodded their understanding and resumed their search once more, careful to use coded language like, _treasure_ , and _scavenger hunt_.

As the day wore on, the pirate seemed to lose interest, or at least he lost sight of the boys. With that threat gone, the Lost Boys became complacent, talking freely among each other about how happy Mia was going to be when they presented her with the eye. But by mid-afternoon and with no further progress made, everyone was feeling the fatigue of their search. Some of the boys were starting to doubt there even _was_ a Temple of Nev.

"I mean, it's only a legend anyway, right?" asked Slightly. "Tiger Lily only knows what she's been told. It's not like _she's_ ever been to the temple before."

"There is so!" snapped Peter. "There _has_ to be! Don't you understand? Without the treasure, Miawill be lost to us forever. She'll grow up and forget about us. But with it, she'll always find Neverland."

"I still don't see why she has to go home at all," mumbled Slightly. "Why don't you just forbid her from going home. Tell her she has to stay here with us forever."

"We can't keep her here against her will," said Peter. "If we did that, then we'd be no better than Captain Hook. Besides, you want to make her sad?"

"Of course not," said Slightly, flushing ashamedly.

"Then we can't keep her," said Peter. "Plus, as long as Hook is on the island, she's in danger."

"How come?"

"Because Hook likes pretty girls," said Nibs before Peter could reply. "I bet if he ever saw Mia, he'd want to kidnap her right away. That's what I'd do if _I_ was a pirate. I'd kidnap Mia and make her my mother."

"That's not what pirates do!" said the Twins. "Pirates don't want mothers!"

"They do so," said Nibs and Curly.

"Nuh uh! They want girlfriends that they can make kissy faces with!" In sync, the Twins made kissy faces at Nibs and Curly, earning them each a shove in return.

Peter, who definitely didn't want to think about Hook making kissy faces at Mia, was getting angry and impatient. "Knock it off! No one's kissing anybody!"

Tempers were rising. Tootles was crying and begging them not to fight. And happy thoughts were running low.

"Peter," said Slightly, starting to sink a little. "I'm getting short."

The other boys took notice of their predicament as well, and this effectively ended the argument. Peter's eyes scanned the mountain for a good place to rest and refuel the Lost Boys with pixie dust.

"There." Peter pointed to a large boulder which poked out of the side of the mountain like a boil on a troll's back. "We can rest on that rock. It's big enough that we can all sit."

Peter led the way, flying down towards the outcropping. He sat cross-legged in the air and lowered down to sit upon the boulder only to fall straight through it as it gave off a strange, glowing fizzle.

"PETER!"

"OH NO!"

"THE MOUNTAIN ATE HIM!"

Peter landed on his back inside the boulder with an "Oof!" Slowly, he sat up, giving his head a shake. He was sitting on a large, smoothly polished, silvery surface.

Brushing himself off, Peter rose to his feet and saw that he was encased in a translucent dome. He could see right through it to the sky. He could see the sun, the trees, and even the Lost Boys, but the view was distorted with a colorful shimmer, as though he were gazing through a giant soap bubble. Judging by how the Lost Boys were behaving, it appeared that while he could see out, they could not see in.

Peter gazed perplexedly at the shiny platform upon which he stood. At the four corners of the platform were short pedestals, each with a large glowing crystal sticking out from the tops. And in the very center of the smooth, silvery platform was a large sundial; though Peter did not know it by that name, as he had never seen one before.

Peter poked at one of the glowing crystals, and the shimmering bubble-like dome around him vibrated with a low hum. He grinned. This was it! This had to be the entrance to the Temple of Nev!

Carefully, he brought his fingers to the strange bubble dome, giving it a tentative brush. The dome did not pop as a bubble would, and his fingers passed right through it with a fizzling sound and a funny tingly sensation. Peter pushed his arm all the way out and waved at the Lost Boys.

"It's okay!" he called. "You can go through it! See?" He stuck his head out. It was quite the strange sight, seeing Peter's head and arm poking out through a boulder.

"AAH!" cried Curly. "The mountain! It's taken Peter's head!"

The Twins gave Curly a smack upside his head and spoke in sync. "Don't be stupid."

"Come on!" called Peter. "It's safe!" With that, he pulled his appendages back inside to inspect the strange contraption on the ground.

At his assurances, the Lost Boys all came in for a tentative landing. There were awe-filled expressions all around as the boys marveled at this strange phenomenon and the shining surface beneath their feet. The Twins began to goof around, waving their hands through the fizzling, shimmering dome.

"What is this, Peter?" asked Nibs. "There was a boulder here a moment ago, and now we're on... whatever _this_ is." He motioned to the smooth surface upon which they stood.

"Yeah," said Curly. "It's almost like the boulder was..."

"Imaginary!" said Tootles.

Peter crossed his arms and took another gander at their surroundings. "My guess is that this is something that was put here by the Ancients."

"What are the Ancients, anyway?" asked the Twins.

"People who grew up way, way, _way_ too much," Peter replied. "And they're all dead now."

Beyond that, there really wasn't much more he knew about the Ancients, but he didn't say this. Peter didn't like to admit when he didn't know something, especially in front of the Lost Boys.

"Anyway, this has _got_ to be it – the entrance to the Temple of Nev."

"But how does it work?" asked Tootles.

"Don't know yet," Peter admitted rather sullenly.

Slightly brought his hand to his chin, inspecting the circular shape in the middle of the platform and the large, triangular protrusion sticking out of the center of it. He noted how it cast a shadow, which seemed to point to the different markings around the perimeter of the circle.

"What do you suppose this thing is, Peter?" he asked.

"It looks kind of like a clock," said Nibs, tilting his head and gazing down at it. "But not like any clock _I've_ ever seen. It's only got one hand and it doesn't move or tick."

"Maybe we're supposed to _make_ it move and something will happen!" said the Twins.

"Good idea," said Peter. "Let's turn it!"

But even with all of them pushing together with all their might, they couldn't do it. The boys soon gave up, plopping themselves onto the ground, panting and nursing their sore biceps. Peter, however, hadn't quite given up. He studied the sundial a little longer.

"Hmm... Look here. The thingy in the center is casting a shadow. I wonder if that's important." Suddenly, his eyes lit up with realization. "That's it! Tiger Lily said the entrance is hidden in the mountain's face where the sunlight grows short. What happens when the sunlight grows short?"

The Lost Boys exchanged confused glances.

"Uh... then... it's... time to... eat...?" said Curly.

"No, dummy," said Peter, giving him a whack upside the head. "When the sunlight grows short, shadows grow long!"

Curly rubbed his head and muttered, "That's awfully funny coming from someone who doesn't even _have_ a shadow."

But Peter ignored him. "It's just like Tiger Lily said! We just have to wait for the sun to get lower in the sky. Then that shadow will get longer and the way will be made clear!"

The boys exchanged glances. They just had to wait for the shadow of the sundial's stylus to grow long and, somehow, reveal the entrance. Peter was pleased with himself for figuring it out. So pleased, in fact, that he lifted a couple inches off the ground and let out a crow. But as he settled back to the ground, the Lost Boys pelted him with questions.

"So... we just have to wait?" asked Tootles.

"Well, yeah."

"How boring," said the Twins.

"Yeah, well..."

"How long do we wait?" asked Slightly. "And how will we know when the entrance is revealed?"

"I don't know, Slightly! All right? I don't know! Stop asking questions! We just wait and watch what happens. When it happens, then... then I'm sure we'll know."

With that, Peter crossed his arms and sat cross-legged in midair, glaring at the sundial as though he could intimidate the shadow into growing longer.

Thus, they all sat around waiting for something, _anything_ to happen. An imaginary meal was had, which made the boys content, at least for a little while. But gradually they grew bored and restless. While in the past Peter would have abandoned such an endeavor out of sheer monotony – and, of course, patience was not one of his virtues – the knowledge of why he was doing this, that this was for Mia so that he would not lose her forever, held him rooted to the spot, watching almost unblinkingly as the shadow grew longer bit by tiny bit.

Slightly paced around the outer circle of the sundial, looking for any sign that something was happening. Curly and Tootles played a game of marbles, using the small pouch of marbles Tootles always kept on his person. He once claimed it had been a gift from his mother, but was often discouraged from saying such things as it upset Peter. Nibs dozed off while the Twins unsuccessfully tried to pull out one of the glowing stones that powered the holographic boulder, thinking perhaps Mia would like one of those instead.

Eventually, the sun began to fall low in the sky. Sunset was fast approaching. And with it, the stylus's shadow was at its absolute longest. Slightly was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"This is hopeless, Peter!" he cried, throwing up his arms. "We've been waiting around all day and _nothing_ is happen—" The markings around the perimeter of the sundial's face gave off a glowing pulse and Slightly, who was standing in the shadow, which was now about as tall and wide as a door, dropped out of sight. "—iiiiinng! Oof! Ngh! Ow!"

Peter ran to the shadow through which Slightly had fallen. "Slightly!" he shouted, peering at the shadow but seeing no sign of his friend. "Are you okay?"

The Twins grabbed each other and exchanged fearful glances. "Wh-Where d-did he go?"

Nibs awoke with a start and hurried to where Peter stood, drawing a dagger to fend off danger. "What is it? What's happening?"

"The shadow ate Slightly!" cried Curly.

All the Lost Boys gathered around the shadow that Slightly had somehow fallen through. Nothing was visible. It simply looked as if Slightly had been pulled down into the shadow of the stylus.

Just then, Slightly's voice called up from inside the shadow. "It's a staircase! There's a staircase inside the shadow!"

"Aha!" exclaimed Peter. "That's it! This is the entrance to the Temple of Nev! We've found it!"

"The entrance is closing!" Slightly shouted from somewhere below them. "Hurry!"

Sure enough, the shadow was gradually narrowing. If it closed, then...

"Hurry!" said Peter. "Let's go!" Without further ado, Peter jumped into the shadow and disappeared.

The Lost Boys exchanged daunted looks. Then, one by one, they dropped into the shadow after Peter. They found themselves descending a silvery staircase into a rocky passageway. The Lost Boys marveled at the stairs. Each one was made of some unknown silvery material, like some kind of shiny metal, and each step was free-floating, but they didn't wobble or move. They were perfectly solid. Nevertheless, they floated in mid-air, like nothing any of the boys had ever seen. There was certainly nothing like this anywhere else on Neverland, and perhaps nowhere else on Dizgaia – at least, as far as anyone knew.

"Whoa!" exclaimed the Twins.

"Look! They're not connected to anything! They're just floating in place!"

"How do they do that?"

Slightly waited for them all at the bottom, sporting a few new bumps and bruises, but otherwise no worse for wear. Just as they reached the bottom of the staircase, the opening above closed, plunging them into darkness. The boys gave a cry of fright, but their dark purgatory lasted only a moment before a soft glow illuminated just ahead of them.

"What is it?"

"A fairy?"

"You don't think it's Tinker Bell, do you?"

Unafraid, Peter moved towards the strange light. The Lost Boys followed nervously. As they neared, they discovered the light source was coming from what looked like a silver torch embedded in the wall. But it wasn't fire burning from the end of it. It was simply a ball of soft light. Peter grasped the base of the torch and carefully removed it from the wall. Tentatively, he trailed his fingers through the soft glow. His fingers passed through the glowing orb as if it wasn't even there. Nevertheless, it gave off a light that was bright enough to illuminate the rocky passage.

Tootles came to Peter's side. "P-Peter... Is this it? Is this what we're looking for?"

"This? No. This is just some... weird light... thing. We're looking for the Eye of Neverland. It's gonna be sort of like... well, sort of like a magic stone."

Nibs came to Peter's other side. "This must be the place, right?"

The Twins hung at the back, trying to see if they could get one of the floating stairs to move, but without much luck.

"It just looks like a dark cave, though," said Curly. "I thought there was supposed to be a temple."

"Well, we're in a mountain," said Peter. "What'd you expect? I'm sure the temple's gotta be around here somewhere. Let's go." With the mystical torch in hand, Peter led the way through the dark passage.

Peter felt just a bit trepidatious as he led the way through the dark cave, but he didn't let on. He would never admit to such a thing, and he needed to be strong for the Lost Boys, who were still frightened, as they followed behind. Tootles was clinging to the back of Peter's belt, Slightly clinging to Tootles, and so on and so forth in a huddled little line. They hadn't truly the foggiest idea what they were searching for. What did the Temple of Nev look like? How far into the mountain was it? How long would it take to get there? None of them knew. Not even Peter. The light revealed very little, just more and more cave.

Peter had lost track of how long they'd been down in the depths of Neverpeak's caves, twisting and turning along the passageway. But finally, there seemed to be something up ahead. It was a soft glow, much like the one he carried.

"Another light!" he exclaimed. "We must be nearly there!"

In his excitement Peter flew at max speed down the passageway, dragging the line of Lost Boys behind him until he settled in front of a strange, silvery surface which held his reflection. The soft glow had been coming from another one of those strange torches on the wall to the left of the shiny surface. There was a second empty bracket for another torch to be inserted to the right of the silvery wall.

Tootles poked his head around Peter's waist while Slightly stood on his tiptoes and looked over Peter's shoulder.

"What? It's just a dead end! There's nothing but a mirror down here!"

Peter shook his head. "I don't think this is a mirror, Slightly. It's something else entirely."

"It looks like the same stuff the stairs were made of!" cried the Twins from the back of the line, though Peter couldn't think of why this would be significant.

He scrunched his face in consternation. They'd definitely found the secret entrance to Neverpeak's cave. And there were no other passages under the mountain. He was certain of it. So surely this had to be _something_. It couldn't just be a dead end. Peter glanced at the glowing torch on the wall to the left of the shiny surface, then looked to the empty bracket on the right.

"Maybe I'm supposed to put my torch there," he mused.

"What good'll that do?" asked Curly.

"I don't know. But it's missing one, and I can't think of anything else. At the very least, it'll give us more light to think by."

Peter placed his torch in the empty bracket, and the moment he did, the glowing orbs in both torches grew brighter and gave off a low hum. Before Peter's very eyes, an archway magically appeared within the solid silver wall, creating a path.

"Aha!" Peter cried triumphantly. "I did it! This is it, boys!"

But only silence greeted him.

"Boys?" Slowly he turned around. The Lost Boys weren't moving. They almost looked... frozen. Peter waved his hand in front of Tootles' face. "T-Tootles?" He did the same to Slightly. "Slightly?"

Nothing. They didn't respond. They didn't even blink.

"TWINS!"

The Twins always responded to a bellow. They were incapable of keeping quiet or standing still for so long. Whatever magical energy had opened this door, it had also placed the Lost Boys in some sort of stasis, with Peter the only one unaffected.

Peter didn't think the boys were truly harmed, but it spooked him nonetheless. It would seem that whatever waited for him beyond the archway was allowing only him to pass through. Drawing his sword, for he would make whoever waited beyond pay for freezing his Lost Boys, Peter stepped boldly through the arch.

There was no light inside the chamber beyond. Peter could see nothing. And the moment he stepped through the archway, the opening in the wall sealed shut, plunging him into total darkness. Peter jumped, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. Suddenly, more glowing torches sprang to life around the perimeter of the chamber. Peter spun around, holding his sword in front of him, searching for any sign of an enemy, but none was about.

Confident that he was quite alone, Peter sheathed his sword and inspected his surroundings. He stood inside a huge, circular chamber with a domed ceiling and marble floor. But most curiously of all, at the other end of the chamber stood a great statue of a woman wearing a flowing stola dress with a sash tied about her hips. Her thick, wavy hair was piled into a high ponytail which cascaded all the way down her back.

A closer look at the statue revealed that this woman wasn't entirely human. Her eyes were unusually large, and her nose was like the small button-nose of woodland animal. Her ears were pointed, not so like Peter's, except they were more angular and frilled, like a water sprite's. She sported only four fingers on each hand. This must be a statue of Nev herself! But what caught Peter's eye most of all were the three glowing gems embedded within the statue.

A pair of glowing green gems served as the statue's eyes, while a larger red gem resided within her chest, giving off a continuously pulsing glow, like a heartbeat. Peter didn't doubt such treasure would be greatly coveted by the likes of Hook and his crew. Peter wasn't entirely uninterested in treasure either. But in this instance, he had no desire to steal the large red gem. Not with the way it pulsed, almost like a real heart. Best to leave that one alone. But those glowing eyes... Surely, they were the eyes of Neverland! He needed but one.

_Heh. This was easy._

Grinning cockily, Peter lifted off his feet and flew towards the statue. As he hovered in front of the statue's face, he withdrew a small dagger from his boot, looking to pry out one of the eyes. At that moment, Peter discovered that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought.

"Defacing my monument is not the way to go about greeting your elders," said a voice from behind him.

Peter spun around in midair to see the spitting image of the statue, though much smaller, gazing up at him. She tilted her head and smiled at him in a sweet mocking manner. Unlike her statue, this woman was in full color with no gemstones embedded in her body. She was all flesh and blood... and she was beautiful.

Tall with hair the color of fresh green grass on a spring morning and her skin the palest of blues like that of a cloudless summer sky, she was of indeterminate age and gave off an energy that seemed to call to him. It was much like the one he felt in himself. An energy of youthfulness and vigor. And she smelled like one who rode the back of the wind; like adventure, excitement. All the smells of Neverland were here within this singular woman whose bright green eyes were affixed upon him.

"So, it seems you've come at last," she said in an alluringly soft yet resounding voice. "It's been a long time. Welcome back, Peter Pan."


	37. Shadows of the Past

Slowly, Peter lowered to the ground in front of the woman.

"You're... Nev?" He crossed his arms and smirked. "I thought you were supposed to be _ancient._ And what do you mean welcome back? I've never seen you before. I would've remembered."

Nev's lips spread into an even wider smile. "Would you have? Oh, Peter... You seek The Eye, and yet you do not see."

Peter frowned. "What are you talking about? I see just fine."

Slowly, she approached him. Peter tightened his grip on the hilt of his dagger, but he did not lift it. He was rooted to the spot as Nev boldly placed her hand on his cheek and caressed him. Peter was tempted to push her away, but the urge quickly faded. Her touch was warm and gentle. And something about it... was familiar.

"Do you really think you would remember me, Peter, when most of your memories were given up so long ago?"

Peter skewed up his face. "What are you talking about? You don't make any sense, lady. And did you freeze my Lost Boys? 'Cause if you did..."

His threat went unfinished. He couldn't raise a hand against a lady, especially not this one. She was just too... He couldn't quite explain it. He felt a power in her; a benevolence. Although he did not quite know that word, he felt it all the same.

Nev laughed at his empty threat. Her laugh was such a beautiful, mirthful chuckle, like the innocent laugh of a child who knew naught of the hardships of the world. This didn't seem to him an appropriate response to his question, and yet he really liked the sound of her laugh.

"Peter, your bravery knows no bounds. Your loyalty to those poor souls is truly admirable. And to think... you once would have led spirits such as they to a far different fate."

She pulled away from him and began to walk around the chamber, her hips swaying in a tantalizing way and reminding him of the gentle waves of Neverland's oceans. Gradually, Peter sheathed his dagger and followed her.

"Peter, you don't recognize me, and yet you know who I am."

"How?" he asked. "Aren't those the same thing?"

"You share your many adventures with me, day after day. You write the plays, Peter. But the stage is mine to set. You and I share a mighty bond. We have for a very long time."

"I don't get it," he said, tilting his head and scrunching his face. "You're pretty, but I think you might be crazy. Anyway, I just want one of your eye gems," he said, casting a glance at the statue.

Nev stopped in front of her statue, her smile slipping away as she turned to face him. "I know for what you've come, Peter. And there is no one on Neverland more deserving of one of her eyes than you."

Pleased with her response, Peter puffed up his chest and let out a proud crow. But this was echoed by a sigh from Nev, who gazed evenly at him.

"Just the same," she said, "You may not take one of Neverland's eyes." A small smile returned to her face as she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "Not yet, anyway. There's much to be done beforehand."

The wind went out of Peter sails as he gaped at her. "Huh? What do you mean much to be done beforehand?" He paused for a moment, thoughtful. Then, slowly, he nodded to himself. "Ah. I get it. This is a test. I must prove myself worthy, right? I know all about that kinda stuff. Lots of stories go like that."

Nev continued to gaze at him with that same small smirk of a smile. There was something mocking about that small smirk. Almost as if to find out why she smiled would only lead one on an endless string of adventures. And perhaps... perhaps that wouldn't be so bad.

Peter placed his hands on his hips and grinned cockily. "All right, then. What do I have to do to prove myself? A test of strength? Rescuing a helpless damsel? Or do I have to defeat Captain Hook once and for all? 'Cause I can do all that with one hand behind my back!"

Nev let out another childlike titter. Boy, he really liked her laugh! It was so sweet and full of mischief. And he really liked mischief.

"It's nothing like that," she said, shaking her head. "I have no doubt about your strength, bravery, and skill with a blade. I've seen it many, many times. I've no need to test that." She was silent for a moment. Then – "Peter... for what reason do you seek the Eye of Neverland? What could Peter Pan possibly need such a talisman for?"

"Oh? Well, that's easy! It's for my girl, Mia! Er... Miandra Mercurial. I promised to take her home, and she told me she'd come visit me as much as possible if only she could find her way back to Neverland. So, I want the eye, not for me, but for her – so that she can always find her way back to me!"

Nev approached him once more. Peter froze, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword as she drew ever closer. However, he relaxed his grip as Nev lifted her hand and trailed her fingers along his face, brushing back some of his unruly hair. Mia was the first girl Peter had allowed to properly touch him without admonishment, but that certainly didn't mean he'd grant the same courtesy to just anyone. However, when Nev touched him, he felt as though he were being caressed by Neverland itself, by its lush, green grass and the gently lapping waves of its tides.

"How truly selfless of you, Peter Pan. It seems you have grown more as a person since the last time we met."

Peter's brow furrowed at her comment. She kept saying stuff about the last time they met, but he certainly didn't remember having met her before. However, Nev did not explain herself further on this matter.

"Miandra Mercurial... You say she's _your girl._ Tell me something, Peter. What is Miandra to you? What are your exact feelings for her?"

Peter took a step back. "F-Feelings? I don't understand your question," he said stiffly. "I told you, she's my girl. That's what she is to me. My. Girl. She's mine. As for feelings, feelings are... I don't know. I guess I feel... happy... about her? I feel fun things. And kinda weird in my stomach sometimes." He placed his hands on his hips, gazing at Nev impatiently. "Is that what you wanted? Can I get the eye now?"

"You wish to present this girl with a gift, and yet you do not even truly know what it is you're doing. Why do you wish to give it to her? Why do you want Miandra Mercurial to come back, Peter? Until you can tell me that, the Eye of Neverland will _not_ be yours to give."

Peter glared at her. It seemed whatever he'd said, it wasn't what Nev wanted to hear, or it simply wasn't enough. But Peter didn't know what she wanted him to say!

"If you can't truly explain how you feel about her, then you have no right to desire her to come back to you."

Furiously, Peter drew his sword. "I DO SO!" he shouted. "She's mine! My girl! We touched and kissed and... and she's not like the others! She doesn't _want_ to leave me! She only has to! But she can't help it!" His eyes were filling with tears, which he wiped away with the back of his hand, angry at himself for showing such weakness. "I can't take back my promise, so I _have_ to take her back home. But without the eye, I may never see her again! And that's _not_ going to happen." He advanced towards Nev, brandishing his sword. "I like you, lady, and I don't want to hurt you. But if you won't give me the eye, then I'm gonna have to take it from you!"

Nev's eyes narrowed, her mocking smirk finally disappearing. "Peter... you simply don't understand. I can't let you have the eye until you tell me your true feelings for Miandra Mercurial."

"But I _did_ tell you! I _did_!"

"You did not. It's a simple answer, beloved boy of Neverland. You need only speak it. But perhaps one cannot know their true feelings... when they gave away most of what made them a whole being so long ago."

Peter's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you saying I'm incomplete? Are you calling me deficient? I am _not_ deficient! I am youth! I am joy! I am liberty! That is all I am, and that's all I'll ever be! Pan, the avenger! Peter Pan, the wonderful boy who never grew up! There's nothing else!"

Although he was brandishing his sword at her, Nev was undeterred. She walked towards him. Peter's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. And yet, the closer she came, rather than swing at her, Peter's arm lowered to his side, as though he couldn't bring himself to attack. Nev came closer than she had before. Her hands came to his face, cupping his cheeks.

"S-Stop it," he stammered. "You mustn't touch me. No one must ever touch me." Yet despite his words, he only took a half-step back from her, never fully pulling away from her gentle hold.

Nev leaned in closer. "Peter," she said softly. "It is love that you feel for Miandra?"

Peter drew back at once, looking terrified. "I don't know that word!" he shouted. His eyes were filling with tears and his body had gone positively atremble. "I've never heard that before! D-Don't say n-nonsense words to me!"

Nev shook her head. Of course, he wouldn't know the word. It was a part of his greater whole to truly understand love. A part that he was severely lacking. Her mocking smile returned. Up until now, Peter had liked Nev's mocking smiles. They reminded him of his own. They seemed to fit her, and to fit the spirit of Neverland. But right now he found that he disliked that look very much.

"But you _do_ know that word, Peter. And you've felt that very emotion before. You feel it now for Miandra. But you once felt it..." Nev's eyes narrowed and her mocking smile grew just a little wider. "... for Wendy."

Her expression was positively mischievous. If she was looking to trigger some sort of response in Peter, she certainly got it. Peter's eyes seemed to flash, and suddenly, without hardly realizing it, he was screaming in blind fury, tears streaming from his eyes as he came at Nev, swinging. But Nev flew upwards, towards the domed ceiling of the temple, gliding with the greatest of ease, her dress like flowing water through the air.

For a moment, Peter stared up at her, completely dumbstruck, for he had not expected this. But then, remembering he could fly, too, he lifted off the ground and pursued her. Nev's mocking titter returned.

"Oh, Peter. Did I set you off? I _am_ sorry. But to say that you don't know love is a grave falsehood." She hovered in front of her statue. "It's almost... tragic. Peter Pan... Poor, tragic Peter Pan."

"Me? Tragic? Ha! Shows what you know! I am youth and joy! But I am _not_ tragic!"

"Peter Pan, the wonderful boy... embodiment of youth... the young man who left his past forsaken so that he may live forever carefree, with an endless thirst for adventure."

Peter's face paled as though he feared what she said might just be true. Yet still he denied it. "I'm not a young man! I'm a boy! A _wonderful_ boy! And I have no past! Peter Pan and Neverland _is_ my past, present, and future! Don't mess with my mind!" He flew at her, holding his sword in front of him as though he wished to run her through.

It was then the strangest and perhaps most frightening thing happened. With a snap of her fingers, Nev sent Peter plummeting like a rock towards the marble floor of the temple. He landed with a thud, his sword clattering from his hand.

"NGH!"

Nev slowly shook her head as she lowered down to him. "The wonderful boy, indeed! If you are but a selfish boy who knows not love, then your Mia will be forever out of your reach." She gazed pityingly at the boy as he sniffled to himself and tried to raise himself onto his hands and knees, glaring furiously at her.

"Understand this, Peter Pan... you are what you are because long ago I helped you forget all that you once were. I took away the dreaded shadow that constantly loomed over you, tormenting you."

Peter's furious expression slipped away to be quickly replaced by a look of unadulterated terror. He tumbled backwards onto his bottom, staring up at Nev with green eyes which, at the moment, looked far too big in his suddenly colorless face.

"You are Peter Pan... because I made it so."

Peter shook his head. "N-No... It's... It's not true. No... NO!" He covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes, shaking his head and crying. "No, no, no! It's not true! It's not true!"

"Peter... you know deep down that this is the truth. I am Nev, the spirit of Neverland. I am my island, and my island is me. And you... became bonded with me so long ago."

Although he had his hands over his ears, Peter heard everything she said. It was as though Nev possessed a sort of magic to penetrate all his defenses. Her voice resounded deep within his mind, and he could not escape from it.

Nev lowered to the floor and took Peter into her arms, running her fingers through his hair as he rocked against her like a troubled child.

"Your past, Peter, was full of despair and torment, and it all took the form of a shadow that threatened to plunge you into total darkness. I rid you of that shadow, helped you forget it all, took you in as my own. However, along with your shadow, you lost many more positive traits which once belonged to you." Gently, Nev brought her hand beneath his chin and tilted his head to face her. "If you wish to keep your Mia, to allow her to come back to you, then, Peter, you must remember what it is to truly love someone other than yourself. And to do that..." A look of pity came over her face. "I must make you whole again."

Peter was silent as he looked at her with tear-glazed eyes, feeling conflicted. Finally, he spoke in a strained voice. "Then... if I am made whole again... _then_ will you give me the eye?"

Nev nodded. "When you become whole once more, you'll understand the significance of what you're doing. Yes... I shall grant you the Eye of Neverland that you seek. But with the promise of granting such a gift to this girl for whom you care so greatly, comes the burden of all you once left behind. Still will you be Peter Pan, but not the same as before."

He should've known it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't expected this. Peter thought perhaps he'd have to clash swords with an enemy, prove himself in a test of strength. But the price was much higher than that. This gift for Mia came with the price of re-shouldering the burden he'd once left behind, and nothing frightened him more. Nevertheless, for Mia, he must be strong.

Peter drew himself to his full height. Keeping a stiff upper lip, he said firmly, "Show me what I must do."

Nev smiled at the brave hero of Neverland. She cherished this young man greatly, and so it pained her to do what must come next, especially since it would be undoing what she did for him so very long ago to make him Peter Pan in the first place.

She took a few steps back until she stood in front of her statue once more. This time her playful smirk did not bring a smile to Peter's face. His expression was grim, for he understood that what came next would be the greatest tribulation he'd yet faced and it would change him forever. With a snap of Nev's fingers, the soft blue lights in the torches surrounding the chamber became a bright, menacing red. Peter tensed.

"Peter Pan... the time has come to confront the shadows of your past."

Nev stepped aside, revealing behind her a figure made of complete darkness. This dark silhouette was Peter's exact size and shape. It stood directly across from him with its hands balled into fists on its hips. This was the dreaded thing that Peter had long abandoned, had left behind to pursue eternal youth and endless adventures. This was Peter's past. _This_... was Peter's shadow.

Peter clenched his teeth as his hand tightened over the hilt of his sword. "Confront the shadows of my past, huh? All right, Shadow... I'll confront you." Peter ran at his shadow, swinging his sword at it. "I'll confront you to the death!"

As Peter swung, his dark doppelganger deflected the blow with a weapon of his own. But this was the one way in which it differed from Peter. A far grimmer weapon did the shadow wield, as Peter soon saw for himself as his sword was deflected and knocked back by the curved blade of a black scythe. Peter's face paled as though the sight of this weapon triggered a frightening memory.

The shadow took advantage of Peter's hesitation and swung at him, aiming to slice Peter through the middle with its vile blade. With a backflip, Peter narrowly avoided getting cut in half. Then, recovering himself, Peter ran at his shadow again, this time swinging low.

"YAAA!!!"

Peter was sure he had him, but the shadow lifted into the air. Right. Of course, his shadow could fly. It was a part of _him_ after all. Hovering high above him, the shadow spun its scythe with one hand and brought its other hand to its nose and wiggled its fingers tauntingly at Peter.

Peter grit his teeth as his shadow mocked him. He didn't even think twice about whether he could still fly. In the heat of battle, he'd all but forgotten that Nev had taken it from him. Fortunately, it appeared her punishment had only been temporary, for Peter shot into the air and hurtled furiously towards his shadow.

"I'll teach you to thumb your nose at me, Shadow-Boy!" he shouted, making a slash in the air.

The shadow deflected Peter's blow yet again. Pushing Peter away, it swung its scythe in a wide arc, but Peter barrel-rolled through the air to avoid the blow. The battle waged on, back and forth; a swing, a clash, a swing, a dodge. They were evenly matched. Peter was getting impatient. He hurled at his shadow once more, looking to run him through. The shadow dodged just in time. Holding the scythe like a bo staff, the shadow struck Peter in the chest with the scythe's handle, then flipped over him and delivered a kick to his back, sending him crashing into a nearby pillar.

"AGH!"

Wincing, Peter spun around to face his shadow. Blood trickled into his left eye from a cut on his forehead where he had collided with the pillar. Keeping it closed, he tracked his shadow's movement with a single eye. The shadow flew straight at Peter, swinging the scythe. At the last minute, Peter flew upwards. The shadow's momentum carried it face-first into the pillar.

"Ha! How do _you_ like it?" Peter shouted down at it, grinning. But the shadow, while disoriented, was otherwise unscathed. It could not be as easily hurt as Peter, which made it all the more dangerous.

The shadow turned its unseen gaze toward Peter. Then, without warning, it launched itself towards him at high-speed, its scythe raised. As it flew at him, the shadow began to spin, turning itself into a bladed top of death, and it was in this manner it came at Peter. There was no way Peter could defend against an attack like this. All he could do was try to dodge it.

"WOOAH!" Peter allowed himself to plummet several feet to avoid what would have been a deadly, and quite ghastly, blow. He stopped himself in midair just before hitting the ground, then gently lowered himself to the floor.

The shadow ceased its spinning, taking a moment to reorient itself. Taking advantage of the situation, Peter kicked off from the floor and hurled upwards at the shadow from below, looking to catch it off guard and run it straight through from feet to head.

Peter struck true. His sword pierced straight through his shadowy duplicate. The shadow went stiff. Then, it dissipated like black mist carried off on a breeze.

"HA HA! YES!" Peter shouted.

Confident of his victory, he unleashed a mighty crow, which echoed throughout the chamber, never noticing the shadow re-forming behind him. With a mighty downwards swing of the scythe's handle, the shadow struck Peter a blow to the back hard enough to send him plummeting to the floor of the temple. He landed hard, his sword clattering out of reach.

Winded and gasping in pain, Peter mustered up just enough strength to roll onto his back just in time to see the shadow flying down at him, swinging its scythe one final time. There was nothing he could do. His sword was out of reach and he couldn't act fast enough. This time, Peter did not face the possibility of his demise bravely, as he had against Hook in the past. To die at his mortal enemy's hand was a noble death. But to die by this creature's hand... it would simply be the end. Peter cowered as the scythe's blade came down at him. It was over. He was finished.

But the blow never came.

When Peter opened his eyes, he saw that the scythe's blade had stopped just short of cutting him. Instead, it hovered above his chest. The shadow wasn't finishing him off. It was simply holding Peter in submission. He was not to die today, but he had lost all the same. And Nev's words cemented it.

"The battle is over, Peter," she said. "You are vanquished."

"NO!" Peter cried. "No! It can't be! I can't lose! I... I n-needed the eye... for Mia!" His eyes welled with tears. "N-Now I've lost! I've lost and now I'll lose her, too! I'll lose her forever!" Tears from his eyes mixed with the blood that trailed down his forehead onto his face.

Nev came to Peter's side. The shadow took a step back, the scythe disappearing from its hands. Nev lowered herself to her knees and gently took Peter's face into her hands.

"On the contrary, Peter Pan. You lost the battle against the shadow only because it is a fact that you cannot change the past. What's done is done. The shadow represents your past. You could not defeat it. You could not destroy it. You would never have won such a battle. Your failure is, in truth, your victory. Your pride has been pushed away, leaving you vulnerable."

Peter gazed up at Nev with a look of pained disbelief. He didn't like that he'd lost to his shadow, and he didn't like Nev's words, saying that he couldn't change or destroy the past. But at the very least, it sounded as though he hadn't lost his chance at gaining the eye, and that was what really mattered to him.

"Now Peter," said Nev softly. "It is time for you to become whole again."

"But I don't know how!" he moaned in a way that was, even for him, rather childish.

Nev brought a single finger to his lips. "Shh... Hush now, dear Peter. It is not a task for you to do alone. I am the one who removed your shadow the first time, and I shall be the one to put you back together. It is time, Peter." She lifted her fingers to Peter's eyes and gently draped her hand over them, closing them and lulling him into a sort of doze. Gently, she laid him back upon the floor. "It is time... to remember."

Nev turned towards the shadow, opening the palm of her hand. The shadow was drawn into it, like a small, pitch-black ball.

"Remember... and become whole again!" Nev brought her hand to her lips and blew Peter a kiss, scattering the shadow over him like black pixie dust, engulfing him entirely. "Now is the true test, Peter," she whispered softly. "Now you finally face the shadows of your past. Good luck."


	38. Memories of a Lost Boy

" _Hey, you thief! Get back here!"_

_Little Peter ran through the streets of Paridon with his crust of bread and hunk of cheese. It would be the first meal he'd had in three days, and he must not be caught by the authorities before he'd eaten it. Any beating he received would be worth the food in his belly._

_He heard their footsteps drawing closer behind him. Small and malnourished, Peter couldn't hope to outrun them before they caught him. Thus, as he ran, he shoveled as much bread and cheese into his mouth as he could, eating on the run. He turned a corner into an alleyway. Dead end._

_"Wrong move, little thief."_

_Peter turned to face his pursuers. Glaring defiantly at them, he shoveled the rest of the food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing with hurried relish._

_"You little..."_

_One of the men struck a blow to Peter's head and the boy crumpled to the ground._

_~~~_

_"You, boy, have been accused of thievery, a crime punishable by imprisonment. However, given your youth—"_

_The five-year-old boy sniffled loudly, running his hand across his gooey nose as tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes._

_"Given your youth," the judge repeated, irritated at even the slightest of interruptions, "you will instead be placed in an orphanage where, perhaps, you will receive some proper discipline!"_

_The judge banged his gavel with finality. The sound echoed loudly through the courtroom, sealing young Peter's fate._

_~~~_

_The wrought iron gates below the sign reading, "Orphanage," looked positively menacing. The building behind it wasn't much better. With sharp edges and pointy spires which seemed to reach to the dark, gloomy sky, the brick mansion possessed a foreboding appearance. Peter whimpered softly as he was pulled up the crumbling brick stairs to the dark fortress-like building which would be his new home. But to little Peter, it looked more like a prison._

_The woman who awaited him was austere in every facet of her being. She did not smile. It was uncertain whether she ever experienced any feeling or sensation other than perpetual annoyance. This was the woman in charge of the boys' orphanage, Madam Tetrie. She took Peter roughly by the arm, bid his deliverers a terse 'Thank you' and "Goodbye,' and sat Peter down in front of a roughly made wooden table, placing a bowl of lumpy white sludge in front of him. The stuff was so awful that Peter would have almost rather starved, and when he told her so, she hit him._

_Later, he was dragged upstairs to a room full of rickety, four-post beds with mattresses so thin he could see the metal springs beneath them, many of which were rusted. On some beds, the springs poked all the way through the mattresses and the boys who laid on them had to sleep in very uncomfortable positions to avoid them, for fear of cutting themselves. Peter was assigned the very last bed next to the large, double windows which opened onto a crumbling balcony. An older boy with dark circles under his eyes sat on the bed beside him._

_"Who're you?" he asked._

_"Peter," replied Peter._

_"Peter what?"_

_Not entirely comprehending, he answered, "Peter the boy."_

_"Don't you have a last name?"_

_"I dunno."_

_"But your parents had last names."_

_"I don't remember my parents."_

_The older boy gave a derisive snort. "Well, you're better off then. After all, our parents are the reason we're here."_

_"Why?"_

_"Why?" asked the older boy, raising an eyebrow at Peter's naivety. "Because they gave us up! We're unwanted children."_

_"My parents will come for me some day," said Peter resolutely. "At the very least, my mother will. Mothers love their babies."_

_"Hmph. Shows what you know. Our mothers never loved us. That's why they gave us up. Your_ _mother doesn't love you."_

_"That's not true! She does!"_

_"Well... we'll see, won't we?" The boy rolled over onto his bed, putting his back to Peter._

_Madam Tetrie entered the room a minute later, calling for all lamps to be doused. As one, all the boys obediently blew out the candles on their respective bedside tables. Madam Tetrie closed the door with a formidable slam._

_Peter lay on his little broken cot, gazing out the large windows at the night sky beyond. The stars were bright that night. Peter pretended he was a little bird and imagined himself flying out the window, far, far away, to the most distant and brightest star in the heavens. It was with this imagery in mind that he finally fell asleep._

_~~~_

"Oh, Peter," murmured Nev.

She sat on her knees in the temple with the boy's head in her lap. Her hand rested over his forehead. Her eyes were closed, just as his were. And yet she saw all that he saw.

"No wonder you've always hated grownups. And it isn't any wonder that Wendy's departure hurt you so badly, or that you've denounced mothers all together."

~~~

_"Peter, where are we going?"_

_"You didn't have to follow me, Tagalong."_

_Peter liked giving nicknames to his friends, though they were few and far between._

_"You know I always follow you, Peter."_

_"It's gonna get you in trouble someday, you know," said Peter with a mischievous grin._

_"Yeah, I know."_

_Peter and Tagalong turned a corner, taking to the dark underbelly of Paridon's backstreets. Peter stopped at the back of a large cobblestone building shaped like a castle tower._

_"The Royal Crown Theater? Peter, if we get caught sneaking in here, we're going to be in_ so _much trouble!"_

_"Then let's not get caught," said Peter with a mischievous smile. He climbed into a small, open window at the back of the building and Tagalong reluctantly followed._

_They snuck into the back of the theater and peered through an opening just above the balcony seats._

_"There she is," whispered Peter._

_On the stage below was a girl of remarkable prettiness. She was singing a song, and she had a positively beautiful voice._

_Peter placed his chin in his hand and sighed dreamily. "Isn't she great?"_

_"Yeah, just wonderful, Peter. But seriously, we're going to get in trouble."_

_"One of these days, I'm going to ask her to be mine," said Peter._

_Tagalong snorted and Peter shot him a dark look._

_"Sorry. No offense, Peter, but a girl like that would never take one look at guys like us. Why do you come here? Just to see her?"_

_"That's part of it," said Peter, "But I come to listen to the stories."_

_"Stories?"_

_"Yeah. They tell such wonderful stories on that stage, and they act them out."_

_"It's called a_ play, _Peter."_

_"Well, they're good at it. 'Sides, I can't read too well. So this is perfect. They do it all for me."_

_"An orphan who can't read. That's just what that girl wants, I'm sure."_

_"I'm plenty clever," Peter argued. "Besides, maybe she'll teach me one day."_

_Peter and Tagalong cleared out before the play was over. They couldn't risk getting caught by the departing audience. They walked casually down the more populated streets of Paridon, through the mercantile district. Peter snagged a couple apples from a vendor, who was none-the-wiser. Peter's thievery skills had improved greatly over the past 10 years. He was never caught._

_Handing an apple to Tagalong, he bit into his, chewing with relish. It was fresh, crisp, and juicy. They rarely got fresh fruits and veggies at the orphanage. Tagalong twirled his apple nervously in his hands, too anxious to take a bite._

_"Peter, we should go back."_

_"I'm not going back, Tag."_

_"But you've heard what happens to boys who run away from the orphanage! They get put into workhouses!"_

_"That's where we're all headed when we age out of the orphanage anyway, Tag. And I've only got a couple years left. Besides, they'll have to catch me first. No one's putting_ me _in a workhouse."_

_The sound of several booted feet came padding down the cobblestone behind them. Peter and Tagalong turned to face the sound. Four of the town constable's men pointed at the boys._

_"That's them! The ones that ran away from the orphanage! They match Madam Tetrie's description."_

_"Better run," said Peter, and both he and Tagalong turned heel and fled._

_"After them!"_

_The clopping boots of their pursuers followed them through the streets. They couldn't seem to shake them. Peter, at least, had a chance of outrunning them and losing them in the crowd. But Tagalong, who was shorter and younger, was not as quick._

_"I... I can't keep up, Peter," he panted. "It's over for me. T-They're gonna catch me and take me to the workhouse."_

_"Not if I can help it!" Peter slowed and matched pace with his friend. He took Tagalong by the arm and shuttled him into a nearby alley. "Head down that way! Don't stop. Keep running. I'll distract them, okay?"_

_"But Peter—"_

_"GO!"_

_Tagalong did as he commanded. Peter turned to face his pursuers. Raising his arms over his head, Peter waved mockingly at them._

_"Hey, you blockheads! Over here!"_

_The police gave chase. Peter ran the opposite direction from where Tagalong had gone. He darted down a nearby alleyway, turned a corner and met a dead-end. Ahead of him was a tall brick wall and a low hanging roof. Perhaps if he got a good running start, he could scale the wall and grab onto the roof._

_Peter backed up several paces. He heard the men turn the corner behind him, hurling shouts and commanding him to halt. There was no turning back now. He was trapped. There was only one way to go. With a deep breath, Peter took a run for it. He leapt. He scaled the brick wall by a few feet and reached for the low-hanging roof..._

_But it was just out of reach._

_As Peter fell back towards the ground, his last thoughts were of how unfair it was that only birds could fly, before darkness claimed him._

_~~~_

_Two years passed before Peter saw the outside world again. He had spent the last 730 days imprisoned in the workhouse. Only recently had he finally escaped the high, windowless walls; hard, toilsome labor; and poor sanitary conditions. Now, he walked the streets of Paridon once more, this time a little more timidly than before, uncertain of himself as he tried to remember the paths of his old haunts._

_He was a lot paler than he used to be due to his internment in the workhouse, packed in a small room with several other men, both young and old. His fingers were blackened and sporting sores from oakum-picking. He was thinner. Food portioning in the workhouse was conducted inhumanely. They were only fed a half pound of bread for every half pound of oakum they picked. But Peter was able-bodied and better off than many of the older men. Still, he didn't know how much longer he could have survived, and so, being fitter than most, he managed to escape. He'd been on the streets for three days now, stealing and scavenging for food where he could and sleeping huddled up in back alleyways beneath rickety metal awnings at the back of old shops, which never quite kept him dry on rainy nights._

_On his fourth day out of the workhouse, Peter found his way to the Royal Crown Theater and watched the pretty singing girl again. She seemed to have gotten even more beautiful since the last time he saw her, with long, golden ringlets, ivory skin, and bright blue eyes. She and the rest of her theater troop told the most wonderful stories on that stage, and every time she sang, it made his heart soar and he felt like he could fly. Despite his tragic past and how bleak things still looked, her singing always had the power to raise his spirits and give him hope for the future._

_And so it was that between stealing food, hiding from the authorities who sought to stick him back in the workhouse, and finding a warm, dry place to sleep each night, Peter visited the Royal Crown Theater to watch the girl; the girl whose favor he was determined to someday win._

_On his fourth week out of the workhouse, he watched her again. But this time he lingered too long. The audience was beginning to file out through the side exits of the theater, and Peter had to act fast to make himself scarce. He crawled out the window and hopped down to the street just in time. He turned a corner only to collide with the girl as she was leaving. They stared at each other, Peter completely frozen in his tracks. There were so many things he thought he would say and do in such a moment. But now, he was entirely speechless, almost in a panic. The girl smiled at him. Oh, what a beautiful smile! His heart seemed to beat just a little faster._

_"Hello," she said softly._

_"H-Hi," he stammered awkwardly._

_"I know you," she said. "You've been sneaking into the theater for a while now, haven't you?"_

_"Uh..."_

_"Don't worry," she said quickly. "I won't tell anyone."_

_Relieved, Peter smiled. "Thanks."_

_"You've been watching me, haven't you?" the girl asked._

_Peter's cheeks went red. "W-Well, I've been watching the p-plays. They're very good. And you're very good, too. You have a b-beautiful voice."_

_"Thank you," she said demurely. "What's your name?"_

_"Peter."_

_"Peter what?"_

_"Just... just Peter," said Peter rather embarrassedly._

_"Well, it's nice to finally put a name to the face, Peter," said the girl. "My name is Gloria Stroud."_

_"That's a pretty name," said Peter grinning. "It fits you perfectly."_

_"Thank you."_

_"So, uh, c-could I... could I escort you home or... or something?"_

_"Oh, you'd better not," said Gloria a little hesitantly as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "My troop's den mother wouldn't think it proper, as we've only just met. She'll chastise me rather harshly, I'm afraid."_

_"Oh," said Peter, disappointed._

_"But I really do like you, Peter," she said with another sweet smile. "So perhaps you'd like to meet again?"_

_"Oh, y-yes. I'd like that very much," stammered Peter._

_"Perhaps tomorrow?"_

_"Tomorrow? Sure!"_

_"Let's meet here tomorrow evening, same time as today. All right?"_

_"Okay."_

_They parted ways, Peter with a new spring in his step and a light feeling in his heart._

_~~~_

_The following evening, Peter met Gloria outside the Royal Crown Theater as planned._

_"I was almost afraid you wouldn't come," said Gloria._

_"Why wouldn't I?" said Peter._

_In lieu of an answer, Gloria smiled at him. Then she turned heel, her long golden curls flying prettily about her, as she skipped away from him. Peter stood where he was, confused. But Gloria paused to glance back and beckoned him to her. Grinning, Peter followed._

_Always, Gloria remained a few steps ahead of him, glancing over her shoulder and flashing flirtatious smiles at him. It was as though it were some sort of game. Peter didn't even think to question where they were going, nor did he pay much attention to his surroundings until finally they came upon a dead-end in the alleyway. Peter recognized it as the very same cul-de-sac in which he'd twice been trapped – once when he was a little boy and taken to the orphanage, and again two years ago when he'd been taken to the workhouse._

_"Uh, Gloria? What are we—"_

_He heard footsteps behind him. Just as he turned, he was clubbed over the head and fell to the ground._

_Dizzily, Peter attempted to lift his head to look at his attackers, whom he was certain must be there to take him back to the workhouse. But no... This was odd. The men who'd just attacked him were wearing the uniforms of the King's Navy. Peter saw one of the men placing a pouch of coins in Gloria's open palm._

_"Paridon thanks you for your service to our country, Miss."_

_"It's for the best," she said in a voice so cold and so utterly different from the sweet, lovely one with which she performed on stage that Peter hardly recognized it. "We can't have riffraff like him roaming the streets. At least this way he'll be put to good use and contribute something to our society rather than being a blemish upon it. Besides," she said, casting his prone form a scathing look. "He was always spying on me, and it was rather frightening, to be honest."_

_Peter couldn't believe it. But maybe he wasn't hearing it right. After all, his head was throbbing. He thought he could feel blood coming from his nose and his forehead. He tried to speak, but was unable. Blood from his nose was dripping down his throat._

_"Don't worry, Miss. The navy will curb that sort of behavior right quick."_

_The toe of a boot came to Peter's face, tilting his head up as though its owner wished for a better look. "We sure about this kid? He barely looks 18."_

_"He's close enough. Take him."_

_A boot came down hard on Peter's head, delivering him into the waiting arms of unconsciousness._

_~~~_

Nev held Peter in her lap, gently stroking his hair. Peter was still in a deep sleep, and yet his distress was apparent by the tense set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

"It was that day, Peter, that your heart hardened against romance and you denounced the ways of the female species," said Nev softly. "To you, they were temptresses, seductresses... But they did not love. After all, your mother had given you up... and that girl... to her, you were merely a means to an end, and that end was quick and easy money."

Nev softly caressed his face, frowning pityingly. "It is no wonder you pretend to not know love. You tried so hard to ignore those feelings for Wendy. And now, even though you feel them for Miandra, you refuse to put a name to them."

A couple tears fell from beneath Peter's closed eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Nev gently wiped them away.

"There was so much pain in your life, Peter. Now you see why, when you first came to my island – a wandering, shivering, broken mess – that I rid you of all these horrific memories and gave you what you always wanted. Youth, innocence, and joy. A place where you could be a young boy again and know nothing but fun and games. Now, I must give these memories back to you, and it pains me to do it because I know how much it hurts you."

~~~

_Peter awoke to a pounding in his head. There was the sensation of rocking, which was making him nauseous. With a groan, he opened his eyes. He was laying on a cot beneath some dusty floorboards. Through the slats, he could see booted feet moving back and forth above, raining dust down upon him. The pounding of several feet and shouting from above did nothing to ease his throbbing head, and he let out another groan._

_When his eyes finally focused solidly, he saw a young man hovering over him. The boy couldn't have been too much older than Peter. But unlike Peter, this young man had tan, sun-kissed skin and wild, unkempt, black hair which seemed to conceal one eye. He was gently wrapping bandages around Peter's head. When he noticed Peter had awakened, he smiled kindly down at him. He had something of a crooked mouth with a particularly long canine up front, what people called a 'wolf's tooth.'_

_"Easy now, amigo," he said. "You're okay. Just a little banged up is all."_

_"Only a little?" asked Peter hoarsely. "You must be joking. I feel like I've been run over by a carriage." Slowly, he raised onto his elbows, wincing as he did so. "Where am I?"_

_The young man glanced up at the shadows of sailors passing overhead. "Un barco de la marina del rey. A ship of the king's navy. You've... uh... 'volunteered' to join in the war efforts against El Rey de Los Cuernos. The Horned King. Looks like you're a navy boy now, amigo."_

_Peter winced as the young man finished bandaging his head. "Ngh... That's funny," he said, touching his head gingerly. "I don't_ remember _volunteering for anything."_

_"Yeah, well, that's how the navy operates, doesn't it? Looks like the press gangs were as polite about recruitment as ever. Salvajes is what they are."_

_"How very generous of them," said Peter. He hesitated, his eyes widening in realization. "That girl... she was in on it. She tricked me!"_

_Suddenly, his chest felt strangely empty. If he were to imagine what it looked like beneath his skin and muscles, past the bones, he could almost visualize a heart, growing smaller, turning a sickly color and threatening to crumble to ash. He placed a hand over his chest and lowered his gaze. He'd watched that girl perform on stage for years. He'd fallen in love with her singing, and subsequently with her. Perhaps it was foolish, but he couldn't help it. He had loved her from afar. He almost expected – perhaps 'dreamed' was the right word – that someday they... But when he'd finally met her, she led him into a trap._

_"Tagalong was right all along," said Peter softly. "A girl like that... a girl like that would never want someone like me."_

" _Tricked by a chica? That's low even for the Navy's press gangs." With a sigh, the young man leaned back in his chair. "Well, regardless, welcome to the crew, amigo. While this is no manner of luck for you, I'm glad you were brought aboard. It gave me something else to do besides swabbing the poop deck and running powder for the cannons. Tending to you has been the most relaxing task I've done aboard this floating hell hole."_

_Trying to ignore the pain in his chest, which was somehow far more acute than the one in his head, Peter replied, "When they say poop deck, do they mean... "_

_The boy's crooked smile grew wide and he laughed. "Oh... Oh Dios mio. I like you. You're a funny one."_

_Peter managed a painful grimace of a smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He rose to his feet, wincing. He was still a little dizzy, so he grabbed one of the wooden columns for support. "What's your name? And where are you from? How long have you been onboard? And how long have I been onboard, for that matter?"_

_The young man raised his hands. "Whoa hey... cálmese." He joined Peter, leaning against the same wooden support. "You haven't been aboard long. Been unconscious for maybe a day. As for me, I've been aboard... six... seven months... maybe a year. Out at sea, I kinda lose track of time. I know it's been far too long since I've seen Cariocan land. The name is Hector. Hector Colmillo."_

_"I've never met anyone from Carioca. I've... actually... never met anyone from anywhere outside of Paridon. You don't get much opportunity to see the outside world, being an orphan." Peter was feeling woozy, so he took a seat back on the cot. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Hector. I'll give you're a proper nickname in time. I'm willing to bet you might be my only friend on this ship. From what I've heard of the navy, I can't imagine the officers are as friendly as you."_

_Hector arched an eyebrow. "A proper nickname, huh?" With a smile, he sat on the cot beside Peter, leaning back and propping himself up on his arms. "And you're right about that. I'm one-of-a-kind among this lot. Believe you me, I don't really have many friends on the crew either." He slumped back on the cot with a sigh. "Things are not exactly what I imagined when I joined up. I thought I'd be doing more good, like helping people affected by The Horned King's minions. Instead, I just mop up shit."_

_"You actually signed up?" asked Peter in disbelief. "As in willingly?"_

_"Well... I wouldn't exactly say I joined the_ Navy _willingly," said Hector with a mirthless laugh._

_"Oh," said Peter, not entirely comprehending. "Well, that_ would _be crazy. I've heard so many stories about how awful it is in the King's Navy. Hard, thankless work, substandard living conditions, awful food..." He paused and titled his head thoughtfully. "Actually, it doesn't sound much worse than the orphanage or the workhouse. I guess I'm breaking even here. What about you? Surely you can't have come from worse than this. What's it like in Carioca? I don't know much about it, myself."_

_"Carioca? Oh, it's beautiful. Always nice and warm, everyone always has a friendly word for one another."_

_Peter, who'd only ever seen the dark and gloomy streets of the underbelly of Paridon, could only imagine a place like the one of which Hector spoke. He'd heard that Paridon as a whole was a beautiful country as well, but not what he'd seen of it._

_"At least, it used to be that way," Hector continued with a frown. "Until The Horned King's influence started encroaching on it. It's still free from his grasp, thanks to Paridon's protection."_

_"So that must be why you decided to join up with Paridon's royal navy, huh?"_

_"Yeah," said Hector. "Mi familia's back there – my mama, my little brother, Jose... and Isabella. That's mi amor. She's waiting for me back home. They all are."_

_Peter forced a polite smile, but inside he couldn't help feeling envious. "That must be nice, having a family," he mused._

_"Si," said Hector with a nod. "It is. And I miss them every day. I wanted to do everything I could to protect them. Like my papa before me. He joined up as part of the war efforts to battle against The Horned King. But... he was killed. I wanted to follow in his footsteps. To be brave and help protect everyone I love. But they didn't let me join The Legions. Instead, I got tossed into the navy and brought here as a cabin boy... where I barely make a lick of difference."_

_"That's a dirty trick," said Peter. "I bet it'd be a lot better in The Legions."_

_"Don't I know it? They treat you far better in The Legions, and while there's danger to be had, it's nothing like what we face out here at sea."_

_A sigh escaped Hector's lips as he reached into his shirt and pulled out a small pendant on a silver chain. It looked like a silver coin with a dove etched into it._

_"Isabella said this would protect me. It is a symbol of peace. She gave it to me before I left home. I told her, when this was over, I'd go back home and I'd marry her."_

_Peter felt another prickle of jealousy. He'd never been given a gift by anyone. He had no material possessions to his name. Not a one. No trinkets to take with him to give him courage in battle, no one at home to miss him while he was gone._

_Hector gazed off in silent reverie for a moment longer before returning his gaze to Peter. "Listen to me, rambling on and on about myself... and I haven't even gotten your name yet!"_

_Peter shrugged. "It's fine. I haven't got much to tell about myself anyway. My name's Peter."_

_Hector nodded, waiting for more. Peter prepared himself for the inevitable question, and sure enough, it came._

_"Peter...? Peter what?"_

_"Just... Peter," he sighed. "There's nothing else. Or at least, if there was, I never knew it. I never had any parents. At least none that I can remember. All I've ever known is that my name is Peter."_

_Not wishing to dwell on his lack of a name, Peter put his chin in his hand and quietly studied Hector._

_"And you... from now on, you'll be Wolf." He tilted his head, studying Hector a little longer, then smiled and gave a resolute nod. "Yep. You're Wolf, all right."_

_"Wolf?" Hector's brow furrowed, at least the one that Peter could see, as the other was hidden behind his hair. "Wolf... Wolf..." His crooked smile with that prominent fang appeared once more, as he nodded at Peter. "Alright then,_ Just Peter _. If I am Wolf to you, then el lobo shall also be as la familia to you. I'll look after you like you were mi hermano. What say you, my brother?"_

_This was new. Peter had made friends before, but no one who'd ever called him their brother. This was the first time anyone had claimed kinship with him, even if it was in name only and not by blood. Peter grinned a wide grin._

_"All right then," he said, clasping Hector's hand. "We'll be true-blue brothers till the end!"_

_With a quirk of his crooked grin, the newly dubbed Wolf bared his fang and grasped Peter's hand in kinship. It seemed that in this new life aboard a ship of the Paridonian Royal Navy, there would be at least one person who would watch out for Peter._

_As the two young men shook hands, the door to the hold was thrown open and a big, burly man in a red and white uniform came tromping down the stairs._

_"Cabin boy! Is the new crewman awake yet?"_

_Hector quickly leapt to his feet and saluted as one who is well-practiced in avoiding a flogging._

_"S-Si! Uh... aye, sir."_

_"'Bout bloody time," the man growled, glaring at Peter. "Quit ya dilly dallyin' and come up on deck! Time to get to work, you worthless sods!"_

_Peter tried to hide how nervous he felt, but his meek countenance was not lost on Hector._

_"Just stick with me, amigo," said the newly dubbed 'Wolf' with a kind smile. "I'll show you the ropes... and I'll watch your back."_

_Offering him a hand, Wolf pulled Peter to his feet and led him above decks._

_~~~_

_Days turned to weeks. As promised, Wolf showed Peter the ropes, and Peter learned quickly. As time went on, Peter became as accustomed to a sailor's life as any of them, and he was well-liked by his peers. The same, however, could not be said for the commanding officers. To them, Peter, while a hard-worker, was also a constant nuisance, forever riling up the crew as though it were all just a big game to him. More often than not, they seemed to think he behaved more like a child than a young man._

_Late one evening, in the galley below decks where the crew took their suppers, Peter strutted about the tops of the wooden tables, pretending to peck and crow like a rooster. This was met with raucous laughter and applause from his fellow shipmates. It was a hard life on a naval vessel, and somehow Peter always managed to raise their spirits. None, however, were more amused than his pal, Wolf, who was laughing so hard that he was in tears._

_"P-Peter! You're too much!"_

_Flapping his arms, Peter unleashed one last, loud rooster crow into the rafters above. Seconds later, the doors to the deck above were thrown open. The ship's Lieutenant, a large, burly man with thick, dark muttonchops came tromping down the stairs. An instant silence fell over the crew, but it was too late to act like they hadn't just been making a ruckus. The Lieutenant's blazing eyes revealed that he'd heard it all._

_"Enough!" he shouted. "Quiet, all of you! What_ is _all this pandemonium!?"_

_Peter hopped down from the table, landing lithely on his feet in front of the commanding officer. "That's me!" he announced, giving the man a low, sweeping bow. "Peter Pandemonium, at your service!"_

_From behind him, several chuckles were quickly disguised as coughs as the crew attempted to stifle their laughter._

_The lieutenant's eyes were at full blaze now. "So..._ YOU'RE _the cause of this uproar! I should've known." He turned to a few of the men sitting among the group that was entertained by Peter's shenanigans and thrust a finger at them. "You men! You're late for your shifts! There will be no shirking of duties on my watch! Get on deck! Now!"_

_Wishing to avoid the lieutenant's wrath, the men quickly leapt to their feet and dashed up the stairs. With a vicious glare in his eyes, the lieutenant approached Peter. "You've been trying my patience since day one, boy! Here you are making men ignore their duties, making them laugh as men bewitched with your foolish display!"_

_"They were eating their supper," Peter countered. "I was only entertaining them while they ate. It seems to me the crew could use a little silliness now and then to up morale. And you're welcome."_

_However, these comments sealed Peter's fate. In a fury, the officer seized Peter by the arm and dragged him up the stairs to the deck above. "Behavior such as this is unbefitting a member of this crew and shall be punished!"_

_As was custom with behavior considered unseemly or insubordinate, Peter was tied to the main mast with his bare back exposed and given seven lashes with the cat. Peter grit his teeth and did his best to bear the pain with dignity as the plaited whip bit into his skin again and again. But it was on the seventh lash, as his back flesh was torn asunder, that Peter uttered his first agony-filled scream and lost consciousness to the pain._

_~~~_

_Peter awoke to a searing pain in his back. He was laying on his stomach on a cot below decks. He was shirtless and Wolf was sitting beside him, cleaning and dressing his wounds. When Wolf saw that he'd come to, he spoke softly to him._

_"Aquí estamos de nuevo, mi amigo. It seems it'll be my constant duty to put you back together when you're broken apart."_

_Peter attempted to smile despite the pain. "Lucky for me you're so good at it," he said, gazing at his friend through unfallen tears._

_"You didn't deserve that. Punished for bringing joy to the lives of those around you?" Wolf shook his head, looking quite disheartened. "This isn't what I imagined when volunteering to protect my country."_

_"It kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?" said Peter, his voice tremulous. "Makes you wonder if the other side treats their soldiers the same way." He grimaced, trying to force words through the pain. "Maybe this is treasonous to admit, but sometimes..." He winced as Wolf laid a bandage across the deepest slash over his shoulder blade. "Sometimes I wonder if there really is such a thing as good or evil. When the good guys treat their subordinates like this, are they really so much better than the others?"_

_"I'd... I'd like to believe that they have their reasons. But..." Wolf's voice fell to a low mutter. "I can't think of any that would justify it." His gaze returned to Peter, giving him a somewhat desperate look. "Surely King Alexander isn't aware of how his naval officers treat their subordinates. I bet it isn't this way in The Legions."_

_Peter winced as Wolf lay another bandage over him. " guess I really wouldn't know. I'd like to think we're fighting for the good guys, but sometimes, when I think of my life and how it's unfolded, of how I've been fighting just to have the right to survive, being an orphan boy in the slums of Paridon's backstreets and how no one ever did anything to try to help, I wonder..." He hesitated, trying to hold back tears. "I just wonder."_

_Wolf frowned at Peter's musings. "I suppose I can't fault you for your feelings," he said. "The sort of life you've had to live would make anyone doubtful of their homeland." He hesitated, looking uncertain. "But... I mean, the king had his people come and protect Carioca from impending danger, so there must be_ some _good in Paridon. I mean... there_ has _to be..." He lowered his gaze and spoke more softly. "There has to be..."_

_"Maybe you're right," said Peter. "I'm sure you're right. It just looks a lot different from my side of things. But who knows? Maybe the king doesn't know how his people suffer. Maybe we're just... an oversight... or... or something."_

_He grimaced as Wolf dressed his last wound. He couldn't remember having ever experienced such pain. He'd been beaten in the orphanage, abused in the workhouse, but never anything like this. The cat o'nine tails, as the whip was so aptly named due to its nine knotted thongs of cord at the end, had lacerated his skin with wounds whose scars would never fade._

_"Sometimes at night I imagine things," said Peter softly. "I like to imagine there's this place, an island somewhere out there, where no one has to grow old, where everything is happy, where I could always be a little boy and have fun; the way it should have been but never was. A place where there's no pain, no sickness, and no death." Tears welled in his eyes like an over-filled basin threatening to pour over. "W-Wouldn't... Wouldn't that be nice, Wolf?"_

_Peter turned his face into the cot, trying to hide his tears. But he couldn't hide anything from Wolf. A gentle hand came to rest on the back of Peter's head._

_"Si, Peter," Wolf said softly. "That sounds very nice. Perhaps one day we can find it together."_

_~~~_

_Peter and Wolf were working high up in the rigging when the boatswain's whistle called the crew to attention. The boys hurried back down the rigging to join the rest of the crew on deck. The captain of the vessel – a tall, stern-faced man with a thick mustache – stood at the quarterdeck, gazing down at the crew._

_"Attention, gentlemen! An announcement to all: We've received orders from King Alexander, himself! We have been ordered to bring the assault straight to the enemy's door. Our orders are to set a course for the Dark Continent! We, along with other forces from all over Dizgaia, are going to attack The Horned King and his minions head on!"_

_This news was greeted with much unease. They were going straight for the Horned King? The very idea of it! That couldn't possibly be a wise course of action. But if it was an order from King Alexander himself, then it was not to be disobeyed. Wolf's wide, worried eyes flicked to Peter. However, Peter, alone, among his peers stood expressionless as he took the news from their captain, expressing neither fear nor excitement. He was completely unreadable. The Horned King was the greatest evil the world currently knew, and they were just going to sail right in and expect to take the fight to him? The thought of it sent shivers down the spines of the crew, but Peter alone remained unfathomable._

_"We must be brave, men," the captain continued. "For we know not what to expect when we arrive. But we will stand tall! We will be strong! In the name of King Alexander, for Paridon, nay, for all of Dizgaia, we will persevere!"_

_Properly rallied by the captain's patriotic speech, the formerly anxious crew gave a loud cheer. But Wolf looked downright pale._

_"Que el cielo nos ayude..." he muttered._

_~~~_

_Later that night, below decks, the crew snored loudly in their bunks. Peter and Wolf lay on their cots, side by side, staring up at the ceiling and watching the silver starlight shine down through the cracks in the deck above. The gentle rocking of the ship and the steady squeak of the swinging lanterns above was so normal, so calm, that it was hard to believe in three days' time they'd be fighting The Horned King's navies off the shore of the Dark Continent._

_Peter hadn't said a word since Captain Brandier's announcement. At first glance, he did not seem as perturbed by the news as Wolf, nor had he seemed to bristle with excitement like the others when the captain rallied them up with his patriotic speech. But Peter was far from truly unresponsive. He was deep in thought. He, too, saw this as a foolish endeavor. He didn't think they stood much of a chance. Maybe they did. Who knew? But it seemed like things were about to get very serious. He may be uneducated, but Peter was hardly naïve. He suspected many of them would not live to tell the tale of this war with The Horned King._

_Much of his demeanor was grim, accepting with great gravity the idea that he would probably not survive their upcoming encounter. Strangely, however, he did not feel fear, nor regret. He felt only... empty. Men feared for their lives when they had a life to lose. But what sort of life had Peter lived? He never had much of one. To die was just the end of all things terrible. It didn't mean he wished to die. But he felt he could accept it, if that were to be his fate._

_The night wore on. It must surely be after midnight by now. The forecastle was silent but for the snores and creaking lamps and gentle sloshing of waves against the hull. But then, softly, timidly, Wolf's voice came to him._

_"Peter... Peter, are you awake, hermano?"_

_Keeping his eyes on the wooden slats of the deck above, Peter replied quietly. "Yeah, Wolf?"_

_"I was just thinking. You know... of my Mama... and of Jose... and Isabella... and... well, I was mainly thinking of my Papa, and how all this time I've been itching to go up against the bad people and become a brave hero. I've been wanting to make my family... my people... my papa proud of me and fight the good fight." Wolf drew in a deep, ragged breath. "Though, now that it seems the fight is drawing near... I-I'm..." He swallowed hard before plunging forward. "I'm really, really scared, Peter."_

_Peter was silent for a moment. He supposed, when he really thought hard about it, he was rather scared, too. But he wasn't so much afraid of death. It was pain and suffering that truly scared him._

_"I think it's normal to be scared, Wolf," he said finally. "Anyone who says they aren't is just a big pretender."_

_"Si... It's just... I've been wanting to be strong. Wanting to be brave. Un gran guerrero. Just like my papa. He battled the forces of darkness in The Legion, and did so boldly... until... until he was killed. As much as I wanted to fight too, now that I know the fight is actually coming... I'm afraid. What if I get killed? I don't want to die, Peter. I don't want to do that to mi familia. Especially not mama. She already had to deal with papa's death. I don't want for her to go through all that again. I just don't think I'm ready for this. To fight against the Horned King's forces... on their turf?" Wolf shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "What are we doing, Peter? This... this is suicide."_

_Peter couldn't help but agree. It seemed foolish for King Alexander to send them to their inevitable demise and what would be an obvious defeat. But he didn't think King Alexander was that stupid. Peter suspected that they were to be the bait, the sacrificial lamb; a distraction, as it were, to allow other military forces to perform a sneak attack. Yes, he was almost certain that's what this was. But he didn't dare tell Wolf. Wolf worshiped and looked up to Paridon and its king, as they were the ones responsible for delivering his people, his homeland, Cairoca, from the Horned King's reign. Besides, it would only scare him even more if Peter shared his theory. And he was scared enough as it was._

_Peter was scared, too, but perhaps not as scared as Wolf. Death itself did not frighten him. The thing which scared him most about the possibility of dying was that it would be long, slow, and agonizing. But if it was a swift death, he could accept it. But Wolf was different. Wolf had more to lose than Peter ever had. It only made sense that he wasn't ready to leave this life._

_"Wolf... You've watched my back since my first day here, just like a big brother. You're the closest thing to family I've ever had. Now, it'll be my turn to watch_ your _back." Peter turned towards him, his green eyes glowing in the dim light of lanterns above. "You have your mother, brother and your girl to get back to. They're waiting for you. No one is waiting for me. So, I'll protect you. I'll fight alongside you. And if it becomes necessary, I'll gladly die for you."_

_Wolf's eyes were like wide gems in the darkness. He was silent as he let Peter's words sink in. Then, finally finding his voice, he said, "P-Peter... that's... that's crazy talk. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider your words?"_

_Peter shook his head. "Don't worry about me. You've got your family and your girl to get back to. Think of Isabella. For her sake at least you must survive. And I'll make sure nothing happens to you. That's a promise."_

_He reached out across the space between their bunks, holding his hand out to Wolf._

_"There's nothing for me here, Wolf. You're the only friend in the world I have, and I'd die gladly only to know that you'll live the happy life I never could. That doesn't mean I won't try to survive this oncoming battle. But if I must, I won't hesitate to stand between you and our enemy. I've given it a lot of thought, and this is what I want. You're gonna make it back to your familia, Wolf. I swear it."_

_Wolf smiled, tears in his eyes as he clasped the small pendant beneath his shirt in one hand and took Peter's in the other. "That's some adventure you're willing to go on just for me... Peter Pandemonium."_

_Peter's lips quirked in a smile. "It's gonna be an awfully big adventure, Wolf."_

_Wolf smiled back, though his was not quite as wide as Peter's, and there was still a bit of fear lingering behind it. "Maybe we'll both come out of this adventure alive. And then, when it's all over, we'll go to that island of yours."_

_Peter's grin widened. "The island where dreams are born."_

_"And time is never planned," Wolf replied, now more than familiar with Peter's imaginings._

_"Think happy thoughts."_

_"You too, Peter."_

_"Good night, Wolf."_

_"Buenas noches, mi querido amigo."_

_~~~_

_They were a little more than a day out from the Dark Continent when they were intercepted by a pirate ship. The Black Death was a formidable vessel captained by the notorious Captain Plague, who controlled much of the waters surrounding the Dark Continent. He and his men were marauders of a most vicious sort, cutthroats commissioned by the Horned King himself, tempted with promises of riches and power beyond their wildest dreams. It was here this vessel of the King's Navy was forced to do battle with these deadly brigands. But having not expected such an encounter so soon, they were unprepared._

_Cannon fire was exchanged, but in the end, the naval ship was overrun. Grappling hooks were thrown from the pirate ship to the naval vessel and a stream of marauders in dark shades of red, black, brown, and gray boarded the ship and a bloodbath ensued. Swords clashed all around. Arrows flew through the air from the enemy vessel. Unprepared Paridonian sailors were dropping like flies._

_Despite a lack of training and true battle-hardening, Peter and Wolf fought more valiantly than even some of the other more seasoned sailors. Always, Peter watched Wolf's back, just as he'd promised. And it seemed Peter's desire to protect his friend was so great, it granted him the strength, power, and fortitude to fight like someone who'd been doing it all their life. Peter was a natural, and Wolf wasn't bad either. Together, they held their enemies at bay._

_Captain Brandier, too, was felling his adversaries as they attempted to take him down. Perhaps they had a chance yet! But their odds were greatly lessened when the captain of The Black Death boarded their ship. The booted feet of Captain Plague seemed to echo with a resounding boom across the ship as they touched the deck. All heads turned helplessly in his direction._

_Captain Plague was a tall, muscular figure, shrouded in a black, hooded coat. His long raven hair hung down around his face like curtains. Armed with a hand-crossbow, he took aim at Captain Brandier and unleashed a bolt that plunged itself into the captain's shoulder. Captain Brandier staggered backwards, clutching his bloody shoulder and howling in pain. This brought a grisly grin to their enemy's face as he strode across the deck, loading another bolt into his crossbow from a holster on his belt._

_As Brandier's men rushed at him in an attempt to take him down, Plague drew a sword from his hip. It was a jagged, bloodstained cutlass, infamous for tearing its victims asunder, which he now demonstrated. Every man who came at him was swiftly felled in a most gruesome fashion until he had a clear path to Captain Brandier. Now, the two captains faced off – one of the Paridonian Royal Navy, and the other a pirate in service to the Horned King._

_Even with one arm out of commission, Captain Brandier fought valiantly. He even managed to rid his opponent of his deadly crossbow. However, one misstep allowed the villain to get behind him, sending a vicious kick to the back of Brandier's legs. As Captain Brandier fell to his knees, Captain Plague slid his vile cutlass along his throat. The moment the naval captain fell, the battle came to a swift end. Wolf and Peter stood back to back, their weapons knocked aside by their opponents. Captain Plague raised his bloody sword into the air and let out a victorious cry. Then, in his deep, gruff voice, he issued a command to his men._

_"Round up the crew!! Bring them to me!!"_

_With their commanding officer and the petty officers beneath him slain, the frightened, dumbstruck crew were effectively disarmed and hauled like cattle across the deck to stand trial before the frightening Captain Plague. Peter and Wolf, along with the other surviving sailors, were forced to their knees in front of the captain. The pirate crew stood behind them with their swords poised at the back of their necks._

_Slowly, the vicious pirate captain paced back and forth, carefully scrutinizing the crew , unimpressed with what he saw._

_"You're a ragged and useless lot." He raised his arms out to his sides, like some kind of religious zealot. "But all are welcome into the service of the Horned King! All are welcome to join the ranks and march into his new kingdom! Long live the Horned King!"_

_All the marauders joined in this cheer. "LONG LIVE THE HORNED KING!!"_

_A cold shiver ran down Peter's spine at this resounding cry. One of the naval crewmen, an older bearded man, shook his head, looking terrified. "N-No! Y-You're all mad! T-The Horned King will doom us all! We'll all be doomed!"_

_The fanatical, raven-haired villain lowered his arms and glared down at the old man. Without another word, he retrieved his hand crossbow, lifted it, and fired a bolt, point blank, into the old man's chest. Peter and Wolf's eyes grew wide with terror as they watched the old man slump to the deck in a pool of his own blood. Peter could hear Wolf muttering fearfully in his native Cariocan, his head lowered. Peter wondered if he might be praying. To what deity, Peter knew not, but he lowered his gaze, adding his own silent prayers to any who would hear him._

_At the sound of Wolf's prayers, the villain's gaze fell upon him. Captain Plague passed his crossbow to one of his men and strode towards Wolf and Peter. In his hands, Wolf held his Peace Medallion as he prayed for salvation. Captain Plague hunkered down in front of him._

_"You pray... you pray to some unseen presence. For what? To save you? To save your soul? You needn't look far. The Horned King will gladly accept your soul in exchange for your salvation."_

_But Wolf didn't look up. Instead, he gripped his medallion tighter and continued to pray. Captain Plague did not take kindly to being ignored. Through gritted teeth, he growled. "Look at me..."_

_Wolf ignored him and prayed harder._

_"LOOK AT ME!!" Plague seized Wolf by his shaggy hair and dragged him to his feet._

_"NNGH!"_

_Peter attempted to rise to his feet, but the meaty hand of the pirate behind him grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down. Peter felt the cold steel of the broadside of a sword press warningly against his neck. There was nothing he could do. He was forced, at sword point, to remain on his knees. Peter had promised Wolf that he'd protect him, that he'd keep him alive so that he could see his family again. But at the moment, in this position, Peter wasn't much help. There was only one thing he could do. He cried out frantically._

_"Wolf, just accept his offer! Just say yes! He'll let you live if you agree! Just agree! It's not worth dying over! Accept Wolf! Please!" Convincing his friend to accept the pirate's offer and take up service to the Horned King was all Peter could do to save him._

_The cruel captain arched an eyebrow as Peter pleaded with his friend. With a smirk, the villain returned his gaze to Wolf. "Wolf, is it? Your friend is smart. Forget this resistance, leave your deity behind... and submit to The Horned King's will. You and your friend are good fighters. You're resilient. Perhaps a place on Plague's marauder crew would be an acceptable fate for you both."_

_Despite Peter's pleas, Wolf glared at the villain who still held a handful of his hair. "People like you, Señor Plague, were responsible for my papa's death. I can NEVER join with the likes of you." He glanced at Peter with a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry, Peter... mi hermano... but I won't do it."_

_Peter gaped at him, his wide eyes brimming with tears. "W-Wolf... please..." he begged. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Wolf would not be moved._

_"Then," said Plague, with narrowed eyes. "You will die."_

_Wolf turned to face Captain Plague and looked death straight in the face as he spoke in his native tongue, showing a bravery that would make his father proud. "Morir sería... una aventura... terriblemente grande." He turned his gaze to Peter, wearing a sorrowful smile. "To die... would be an awfully... big... adventure."_

_"Wolf, no... Please..."_

_But it was too late._

_"So be it," said Plague, forcing Wolf to his knees._

_In a quick swipe, Plague dragged his blade across Wolf's throat. Wolf's eyes widened and he brought his hands to his neck gazing fearfully at Peter before he slumped forward._

_"NO!" Peter screamed. He watched helplessly as Wolf crumpled to the deck in a pool of his own blood, still clutching his Peace Medallion, his sightless eyes on Peter._

_Peter couldn't take his gaze away from his friend, not even when the tears in his eyes grew too numerous to see more than just a blurred image. The last thing he saw before tears took his sight was the Peace Medallion clutched in Wolf's bloody hand. He remembered his friend's words to him the first day they met._

'Isabella... mi amore. She said this would protect me. It is a symbol of peace. She gave it to me before I left home. I told her, when this was over, I'd go back home and I'd marry her.'

_Peter lowered his gaze as tears fell from his cheeks onto the deck, blotting the wood like raindrops._ 'I failed you, Wolf. I broke my promise. I wasn't able to protect you. I'm sorry... I'm so... so sorry.'

_"A waste," muttered Plague. "If only he wasn't so foolhardy." He abandoned Wolf's body and moved to Peter. "Are you the same way, boy? Are you as stubborn and unyielding as your companion? Or... will you give your entire being to your new master? Will YOU devote your entire life to the service of The Horned King?" Plague pointed his notched cutlass at Peter, Wolf's blood dripping from the end of the blade._

_Peter gazed up along the dripping sword into Captain Plague's face, shadowed behind curtains of inky black hair. Suddenly, it was no longer fear Peter felt... but anger. Rage. Somehow, it seemed his whole life had been leading up to this very moment, preparing him. His best and only friend, who'd once called him 'brother,' was dead. What had he to lose now? But more than anything, Peter was tired. Tired of being kicked and pushed around, of being threatened and abused, of being treated as riffraff. If death was the fate that awaited him, then so be it. But he would not be bullied any longer._

_Slowly, Peter rose to his feet, not caring about the sword of the man behind him, nor Plague's sword, which was inches from his throat. He rose to eye level with the captain, or at least as close to eye level as he could get._

_"Go ahead and kill me! I am Peter Pandemonium, and I do not fear death!"_

_He spread his arms and tilted his face to the sky and belted out a proud rooster crow. His gaze returned to the pirate captain, his lips spreading into a mocking smirk._

_"After all... To die, would be an awfully big adventure." Peter tore open his own shirt and bared his chest to the captain. "Strike true, Senior Plague, and be done with it!"_

_Peter expected death. He didn't wish for it, but he knew it was the only option remaining to him, for he would not join Plague. He would not join the man who murdered his only friend. He would not subject himself, for that matter, to further torture and bullying. Yes, he expected to be killed. He welcomed it as the better option. But he did not expect what came next._

_Plague tilted his head back and laughed. Laughed! Peter's expression faltered, giving way to feelings of confusion and unease._

_"How very bold. You and your companion are quite the pair. If it is death you desire, then I shall deliver you to it. But... if you do not fear_ death _, I do believe that I know what your sort_ does _fear."_

_Peter's hold on his shirt loosened uncertainly as Plague drew close, so close Peter could see his eyes beneath his long, dark hair, and could smell his rancid breath._

_"Oh yes... I know your fear quite well."_

_Suddenly, Peter felt a sharp, searing pain in his stomach unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Gasping for breath, he lowered his gaze to see that Plague had stabbed him in the gut with one of his crossbow bolts. And it was in deep. Plague withdrew the bolt and stabbed him a second time, this time in the side. Peter's gasp came out as a ragged wheeze. Blood poured from his wounds, staining his white peasant blouse crimson._

_"It's not death, but pain... and suffering... agony. Not death... but SLOW... TERRIBLE... TORTUROUS death. Yes... That's YOUR weakness."_

_Suddenly, Peter couldn't quite breath right. He coughed. Blood dribbled down his lips and chin. Feeling dizzy, Peter's balance left him. Unthinkingly, he clutched at Plague's shirt for support, bloodying it before he lost his grip and collapsed onto the deck, curled onto his side. With wide, hazy eyes, Peter watched his own blood pool from beneath him, trailing across the deck in streams of crimson._

_He coughed up more blood. It was a sick, gurgling sound. He was dying. He was dying_ slowly. _And the pain... the pain was unbearable! He wanted to scream in agony, but he couldn't. He didn't have the strength. He lifted his hand from his stomach wound, as though seeking evidence that this was real and not some dream, some nightmare. Now, as he gazed at his blood-covered palm, Peter finally knew fear._

_Plague smirked as he gazed down at the dying boy. "I've been very impressed by you, boy. I wish things could have turned out differently between us. But... I don't take kindly to refusal. So I leave you here, alone, with your slow, agonizing death."_

_Peter barely heard Plague's voice over the strange ringing in his ears. Were those the death bells calling him to his eternal rest, or was it something else? His imagination? A more scientific explanation? He knew not._

_"If you believe in some sort of deity like your friend did, now would be the time to pray to it."_

_A strange suggestion, and one Peter wasn't sure he could follow. He worshipped no deities. He'd never prayed before, and he didn't know who would hear or even care to listen._

_Plague pressed an unforgiving boot into Peter's belly wound. This time, Peter did scream, but it was more of a strangled cry as blood poured out around the captain's boot from Peter's wound, spilling out over the deck._

_Finally, Plague turned away, leaving Peter to his agony._

_"Take the rest to our ship! It's time to sink this damned vessel."_

_Peter was left alone aboard the ship, the last one still alive... for the moment. The grappling hooks were severed and the dark ship began to pull away from the Paridonian naval vessel. Peter managed to roll onto his back, gasping in pain. A swift death would have saved him from not only the pain, but the frightened wanderings of his mind. Now, left alone on a ship full of dead men, Peter had nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, and they were not pleasant. Dying slowly gave him time to reflect on his death in a way he never had before._

_Was death really the end? Or was there more? And how long would it take? Would it eventually stop hurting, or would the pain only get worse the longer he laid there, bleeding? And what would kill him first? Blood loss from his wounds? Or would he slowly drown with the sinking ship? And which would be the worst way to go?_

_The pain had not yet lessened. Peter was feeling weak and cold. So very, very cold. He heard cannon fire from the enemy ship, heard the wood splintering around him. He watched the main mast topple over, just barely missing him. That would have been lucky, wouldn't it, to have been delivered a merciful crushing to extinguish his life more quickly? But Peter had never been lucky._

_He heard an explosion and saw flames erupting from somewhere below deck. Tongues of fire flickered up from the forecastle, threatening to consume the ship. So, was it to be death by blood, water or fire? Suddenly, Peter realized he did not want to die. He had barely had the chance to live! And so, he began to pray to somebody... anybody... who might help him._

_"Please..." he begged, choking on tears and blood. "Please... I don't want to die..."_

_Death and destruction were all around him. And he was next. Somehow, it seemed a fitting end to a life like his, and yet... and yet didn't he deserve a chance at a better life? Perhaps he even deserved to live more than anyone, for he had certainly fought harder than most in order to survive. If he died, it would all be over. There were no second chances._

_Peter's bravery was waning, his prayers becoming more desperate. But it was only a matter of course. It was natural for those at death's door to pray to someone. But Peter had no one, and he doubted very much anyone could hear him. And if they could, who would even care? He didn't expect anyone to answer. But once again, this seemed a day for breaking expectations._

_He heard a voice, cold, quiet, almost cruel. Despite its soft quality, it somehow had the power to permeate all the noise around him, breaking through the sinking ship, splintering wood, and roaring flames._

_"Poor boy... You know, it really pains me to see you like this. Especially... when I expected so much more from you."_

_Weakly, Peter lifted his head and saw, standing over him, a tall figure in a dark cloak which seemed to curl unnaturally around him, almost like smoke. The hood was pulled down over the figure's face so that only a long, pale, jawline and a teasing smirk was visible._

_"I heard what you said, boy. You don't wish to die. Well, I come to you looking to make a little deal." He spoke to Peter as though he knew him, but Peter did not know how. But then, a possibility dawned on him._

_"Are... are you G-God?" he choked, his eyes brimming with tears._

_The mouth beneath the hood grinned at Peter's question. "No. But I'm no mere man, either."_

_No, this man wasn't God. But then who in the world could he possibly be? That strange, smoke-like cloak, the way he seemed to have just materialized out of nowhere... Who, or what, if not God, could do stuff like that?_

_"Who I am isn't important right now. I wish to extend an offer to you, Peter."_

_He addressed him by name! He knew who he was! Who, if not God, possessed such omniscience?_

_"One that will not only save your life... but extend it infinitely."_

_An offer to not only save his life but extend it... infinitely? Was that even possible? Then again, if this man could appear out of nowhere in a cloak made from smoke and shadow..._

_As the figure drew closer, a cannonball whizzed past, barely missing him. The man didn't even flinch. It was as though the man didn't fear death because, perhaps, he could not be killed. And if this curious offer he was making to Peter was any indication, he apparently had the power to grant such possibilities._

_The man hunkered down on his haunches, hovering just within Peter's reach. The tendrils from the hem of his smoky cloak seemed to reach out for Peter, eagerly. The face beneath the hood grinned once more._

_"Peter... if you give yourself to me, work for me, I will grant you the gift of immortality. Eternal youth will be yours. Never grow old. Never die. It can all be yours... if you'll only just pledge your loyalty to me."_

_Peter's eyes went wide. It was enough to have his life saved. Certainly, the way it was currently going, he'd be dead very shortly. And furthermore, immortality and eternal youth? He'd be a fool not to accept!_

_"How about it, son... Will you join me?" As the man extended a pale, alabaster hand, Peter slowly, tremulously lifted his in return, but hesitated, his eyes flicking to his fallen friend._

_The man before him now wasn't the first to make some sort of offer. The other had been a minion of the Horned King. Wolf had preferred to die than to accept such an offer. How was Peter to know this man... this... person... whoever he was, wasn't also among the forces of evil?_

_The hooded man's head shifted, following Peter's gaze to Wolf. "If only... I could've been faster. Perhaps I could've extended this offer to the both of you."_

_Tears welled in Peter's eyes. Too late... all too late. But not, it seemed, too late for him._

_"Peter..."_

_Peter slowly turned his gaze back to the cloaked figure, but every movement he made was becoming slower, weaker. He was dying. It wouldn't be much longer now._

_"I know you've been through much in your young life. So much pain and torment. Oftentimes thinking you had no one to look out for you and nothing to live for. Now, I come to you, Peter, to give you the chance you've deserved since the start."_

_How did he know? Who was this man? But it didn't matter. He was here now, and he was offering Peter the chance he never had, the chance he deserved from the start._

_"I want to save you, Peter! But you have to decide. You don't have much time. Will you take my hand and walk the path of an immortal... or will this wreck be your final resting place? What will it be, Peter?"_

_There wasn't much time. Peter knew this, and yet he worried if he was making the right decision. His body was going cold, and yet the pain had yet to fade. If anything, it was at is most excruciating. This was his chance. The chance to save himself, with the further bonus of being granted immortality. His chance at the life he never had. Perhaps this was it. This man, and his offer, this was that magical island Peter had always dreamed of. It wasn't a real island, but a metaphorical one. The imaginary island was a state of being. A state of being forever young, without pain, sickness, or misery._

_With blood dribbling from his lips and his face growing as pale as that of the arm extended to him, Peter reached for the man's hand, his fingers brushing, just short of clasping it. He was just too weak._

_"P-Please," Peter gurgled through a mouth full of blood. "I... I don't want to die. I'll do what you wish. Just p-please... h-help me."_

_The hooded man grinned widely. "Atta boy. Let me give you a hand."_

_The man's pale hand clasped Peter's, gripping it firmly. It was then a strange, frightening thing happened._

_The smoke-like tendrils at the bottom of the man's cloak stretched out across the deck, inching towards Peter's shadow, cast by the setting of the blood red sun. The moment the tendrils touched his shadow, Peter's body went cold and the shadow gave a jerk. Slowly, the shadow rose up vertically from the deck and stood as though it were a sentient being, gazing down at Peter with its hands on its hips._

_Peter gasped. "M-My shadow... It's alive. H-How?"_

_"This?" said the man with a wide, toothy grin, gesturing to the shadow. "Oh, it's nothing really. I just split your soul in two. Half still resides in you, and the other half... in your shadow. It is from your shadow that you will derive the skills with which you need to assist me in my work. Just consider it a... uniform... of sorts."_

_Suddenly, the shadow leapt atop Peter, straddling him, before stretching out over his entire form. With a scream, Peter was plunged into total darkness. The last thing he saw was the wide, toothy grin from the long-faced man in the dark cloak._

_~~~_

Back in the temple deep inside Never Mountain, Peter cried out and began to thrash. Nev held him tightly in her arms, rocking him and speaking softly.

"Don't fight it, Peter. Accept it. Meet it. Stand strong in the face of your past and be whole again. You must... for Miandra's sake."


	39. Closer

Mia awoke with a gasp.

Hook, shirtless, hovered over her, his good hand reaching out for her.

"Mia," he said, breathing a sigh of relief and lowering his arm. "I was just about to wake you."

Mia sat up and placed her hand over her chest, trying to slow the racing of her heart.

"Another nightmare," stated Hook with a frown.

She nodded.

Hook took a seat on the edge of the chaise lounge. "Do you recall it?"

"N-No," Mia lied.

She couldn't tell him about it. The subject matter was too incriminating. She had dreamed of sea monsters and sea witches, of Maleficent and the Dreamfinder. There'd been something else, too. Something so hazy and nebulous she could no longer recall it. But it left her with the strange, horrible sense that something had happened to Peter. Something bad. And now she began to wonder if perhaps it was true, and if that was the reason he hadn't come for her.

The cabin was in semi-darkness. What light remained was cast by the flickering flames of the hanging lanterns, painting the cabin devilish shades of red and casting strange shadows on the walls. Mia hugged herself and shivered.

"Why don't you sleep with me, love?"

"Wh-What?"

The captain rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly what I meant, dear. I was merely extending the offer to share my bed, to make you feel better, as you seem so frightened. However," he said with a mischievous grin. "If you should find yourself interested in a more salacious activity than just cuddling, I am, of course, quite open to the idea."

Mia glared at him. "You never stop, do you?"

"On the contrary, Mia, I feel I've been exceedingly well behaved in that regard, as of late."

"Well, _keep_ behaving," she snapped.

Smirking, Hook rose to his feet. "Very well, dear. But the offer still stands... either one, should you wish it." Dousing the lamps, Hook returned to his bed.

Now the only light left to penetrate the cabin was that of the moon casting its silver streams through the back window. It was a cold light, and in the dark corners of the cabin where it didn't touch, it was easy to believe there may be something lurking there.

Mia peeked over the back of the chaise lounge. Hook was lying on his side, watching her. When her eyes met his, he smiled softly and lifted the covers, silently beckoning her. Mia vaulted over the lounge and ran to him.As she settled in beside him, he draped the blankets over her.

"It was only a matter of time," he said.

"I'm not here to—"

"I know precious. I won't touch you."

"Well," said Mia, blushing. "You... you could touch me a little. Just for cuddles, though."

"Very well," said Hook with an amused smile. "Just for cuddles."

Hook lay on his back. Mia slung her arm across his torso and rested her head on his chest. She could feel his warmth, hear his heartbeat. She gasped as he wrapped an arm around her, the one that ended in the hook.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I-It's okay," Mia stammered, her heart racing.

"You can unscrew the hook, if you'd like."

"Disarm you? Are you sure about that?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take, and worth it to hold you in my arms."

Mia blushed.

"Besides, if I fall asleep with it on..."

"R-Right." Mia carefully unscrewed the hook from its wooden base and set it aside.

She settled in once more and Hook wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He kept his promise; beyond holding her, he did nothing untoward. Mia didn't know what he might be thinking or feeling right now, but suddenly she was the one resisting temptation.

There was a part of her that wanted him, but she did her best to quash these feelings. She'd already decided she cared greatly for him, but she didn't think she was ready for anything physical, even if she felt an underlying yearning for him. Biological impulses mixed with affection and physical attraction could be a dangerous cocktail, and she didn't wish to give herself to anyone so soon, particularly to someone with alliances such as the ones he possessed.

Mia absentmindedly trailed her finger along the tattoo on his chest, something that looked like a college coat of arms. The symbol of his alma mater, perhaps. A strange tattoo, indeed, for a pirate. But Mia had long since learned that Hook was not like other pirates.

After a while, her finger stopped its tracing and Hook thought perhaps she'd fallen asleep. But it became evident that this was not the case when she spoke in a hushed whisper.

"James... It is true? A-About the sea witch? Do you really think she's looking for you? And does... does she really command a kraken?"

"Mia," he said, trailing his hand through her hair soothingly. "If there truly is a sea witch..." There was, and he knew it. "... then I will deal with her as she comes. Don't let the mad ramblings of delirious, near-death sailors trouble you."

He spoke with such equanimity that Mia almost believed him. However, she quickly dismissed this for what it was; a means by which to pacify her. Mia knew that the sea witch, Ursula (she dared not refer to her by name), was very real indeed. She'd learned as much from the Dreamfinder's impromptu history lesson. But to argue with Hook would do no good. Instead, she snuggled closer to him.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I don't want to die at sea... like all those men." She shivered, and her next question was spoken in a mere whisper. "Do you think... if the kraken is real... do you think you could stand a chance against it?"

"I have my ways, my dear, of dealing with such threats. But be sure, I will allow no creatures of the sea to bring down the Jolly Roger. With me, you are safer than you would be anywhere else, no matter what obstacle may come our way."

He sounded so confident that Mia couldn't help feeling the same. She smiled, feeling a little more relieved, and snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

"All right... So long as you swear to it."

Hook pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I swear it. Sleep now, precious."

~~~

When Mia awoke, the sun had already risen. She was alone in Hook's bed. She glanced out the back window of the cabin. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, Mia guessed it must be nearly noon. Hook had let her sleep in and made sure not to wake her. Mia smiled to herself. He'd been doting on her for a while now, but perhaps from here on he would be even sweeter.

For the first time since her arrival on the Jolly Roger, Mia was in high spirits. After exchanging her chemise for her corset and wench's skirt, she opened the door to the wardrobe to take a gander at herself in the mirror. Bright eyed and rosy-cheeked, Mia smiled at her reflection. She quickly ran the silver brush through her hair. Then, satisfied with her appearance, she left the cabin and stepped out on deck.

Hook stood on the quarterdeck, wearing his best scarlet coat and his ostentatious hat with the feathered plume. Mia marveled at just how suave and debonair he looked, standing there at the helm with his hair and coat blowing in the breeze as he gazed pensively out to sea. Mia hurried across the deck to greet him.

"Good morning, Ja— Er... I mean, Captain."

Hook had given her permission to call him by name when they were alone, but he requested that in front of his crew she still address him by his title. Mia saw no reason not to acquiesce.

The captain smiled at her. "And a good morning to you as well, my dear. You seem lively this morning. Sleep well, did you?"

Mia grinned bashfully. "Yes, actually." Then, in a quick attempt to change the subject – "Have we set a new course, Captain? I was, um, sort of wondering... Could I... maybe... take the helm? Just for a little while? Please?"

"You wish to steer the ship?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "May I first ask, have you ever sailed a ship before? Have you ever taken the helm of a magnificent vessel such as this one?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "You know I haven't," she said. "Which is exactly why I want to do it."

Hook looked doubtful, but she wasn't giving up.

"Come on, Hook... er, I mean, Captain. Look..." She made a sweeping gesture at the expansive ocean before them. "We must be hundreds if not thousands of miles from land. It's not like I can crash into anything or run aground."

"To be fair, Mia, there _are_ still some concerns such as reefs and—"

"Pleeaase? Oh please, oh please, oh please?"

With a sigh, Hook acquiesced. "All right, all right."

"Yes!" Mia exclaimed, punching the air in excitement.

He stepped away from the helm, allowing her to take it. "But I'm going to guide you and show you exactly how it's done."

Hook moved behind her, putting his arms to either side of her, showing her where to place her hands. His left hand covered hers while his hook held the spoke where she was to place her other hand.

"Just follow my movements, understand? You have to feel her. Anticipate her desires. But you must guide her. Don't let her run wild."

Mia wished she had recording of everything he'd just said. The way he personified his ship was so perfectly poetic.

"Wow. It's so big. It's like the entire bow's in my way. It's kind of intimidating."

"It can be," he said. "After all, she's a big lady... there's lots of her to love. But when you get the feel for her... once you truly understand her whims and desires... she will most certainly love you back." He leaned his head down close to Mia's, his lips hovering just by her ear. "And I... consider myself well inclined to know what a lady wants."

Having him speak like that in her ear sent hot shivers through her core. His teasing did such wonderfully awful things to her, and so Mia decided to tease him back just a little.

"I hope you're not calling me a 'big' lady, Captain," she said, feigning indignation. Then, she turned her head and gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning back to the helm. "Now stop distracting me, you salty scallywag, or I may well run this ship aground."

Hook licked his lips, grinning. "By your lead, my lady." With that, he stepped away from Mia, leaving her to steer on her own. "Let's see how much of a handle you have on her."

Mia made a small sound of distress in the back of her throat as he moved away, but she kept her grip on the helm and maintained control. She let out a nervous chuckle.

"It's kind of like learning how to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time." She risked a glance over her shoulder to see him leaning against the wall of the cabin with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. "Guess I'm all grown up now, huh?"

"All grown up and on your way to becoming captain of your own ship at this rate," said Hook with a smile.

Grinning, Mia faced forwards once more, feeling slightly more at ease. "It's not so bad when there's nothing but miles of ocean in front of me. I suspect in shallower or rockier waters it would be more of a challenge. Not to mention berthing her. And I definitely wouldn't want to be at the helm during a battle."

"Indeed, dear. I would certainly have you safely under lock and key in any situation I deemed dangerous. Besides, only one with hardened experience should be at the helm in time such as that. Though, incidentally, you are doing an excellent job of it thus far. You very well may have a knack for this. Perhaps a life on the sea would not be so bad for you."

"Perhaps not," she mused. "I think I could get used to it... so long as my feet could touch land once in a while." She frowned pensively. "Speaking of which, where are we headed? After what happened in Isla Tesoro, is there anywhere else for us to go?"

"There are a few other safe harbors," he said. "That is, as long as the Kingdoms' naval forces haven't found them and wiped them out. I suppose only time will tell. Currently, we're en route to an old acquaintance of mine, Captain Kuala. Truth be told, I haven't seen him in a very long time. He may well be dead. But with any luck, his safe harbor is still intact."

"Great," Mia sighed sarcastically. "More pirates." Again, her expression grew thoughtful. "There's something else I've been wondering for a while now. Whenever you wish to return to Neverland, how do you find it? My father told me that Neverland is never in the same place twice, that it moves unpredictably. How do you ever manage to find it again?"

"Trade secret," he said with a grin.

"You can't even tell _me_?"

Hook reached into his pocket and took out a compass. "I find it with this."

"A compass?"

Hook smirked. "It's hardly an ordinary compass."

"Well, what kind of compass is it, then?"

Hook's grin widened. "Magic."

He held it out for her to see. Mia gasped and took a step back. The compass looked like a regular compass, except that the outer rim gave off a supernatural golden glow, and inside, just beneath the glass where the needle and numbers were, floated a smoky green mist, which reminded her of a toxic green flame which she'd seen twice before. Once in Disney's animated classic, _Sleeping Beauty_ , and once in the Imagination Pavilion in EPCOT, when several goblin-like goons spilled out of an interdimensional portal in an attempt to kidnap her.

"What ever is the matter, dear? You've gone pale."

"Oh, it's... it's nothing," she stammered. "Just that... that green smoke is kinda creepy. Where did you get a compass like that?" Though she was pretty sure she already knew.

"From an old acquaintance of mine," said Hook, quickly pocketing it. He said nothing else on the matter, and Mia really didn't want to know more.

"So hey," she said, trying to keep her voice steady and put the nature of the compass and its implication out of her mind. "Do you think I could climb the rigging?"

"Climb the rigging? Whatever would you wish to do that for?"

"Well, one, it looks like fun, and two, I was thinking of writing some memoirs of my travels. Having some firsthand experience learning seafaring would be great material, don't you think?"

_And I just need to get away from you for a moment and have some time to think and clear my head._

"I see," said Hook, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You wish to learn 'the ropes,' as it were."

Mia snorted at his pun.

"Well, that's not a terrible idea, I suppose." His eyes moved up and down her body as though scrutinizing her.

Mia flushed uncomfortably, wondering what he was thinking.

"SMEE! JUKES!" he called.

Mr. Smee and the cabin boy, Bill Jukes, quickly arrived on the scene. "Aye, Cap'n?"

"Smee, our lovely Miss Mia wishes to learn the ins and outs of being a topman."

"Topman?" asked Mia.

"That, my dear, would be the title for men – or women, in this case – whose job it is to work up in the rigging, responsible for furling and unfurling the sails."

"Cool!"

Smee smiled at Mia, adjusting his glasses. "Well, ain't that splendid? Jus' one small question... Ye've flipped yer lid, haven't yeh?"

Mia crossed her arms and glared haughtily at him. "If a silly old man like you can do it, I've no doubt a young woman like myself is equally capable. Just show me what to do."

Hook grinned proudly. "That's right. You will take Mia with you, gather some of the men and teach her all about the rigging and the sails, and anything else she wishes. That's an order. As for you, Jukes," said Hook, turning to the cabin boy. "I would like you to loan Mia your pants."

Bill's jaw fell agape. "M-My p-pants, Cap'n?" His hands moved to his waistband, uncertainly.

"Not _those_ pants, boy," said Hook, rolling his eyes. "Do you think any of us wants to see you running about on deck in naught but your skivvies? You have an extra pair, don't you?"

"At least one, Cap'n. But why—"

"Because, Jukes," said Hook impatiently. "My Mia wishes to climb the rigging, and I won't have her doing so in that skirt."

Several heads in the vicinity turned their way. Mia blushed.

"Ohhh..." said Jukes. "Right. I'll get me pants. Be back in a jiff."

Some time later, in her bare feet and with Bill Jukes' baggy, stripped pants tied tightly about her waist with a drawstring, Mia ascended the rigging. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Hook's compass... It showed the way to Neverland. She wasn't sure how exactly, but she didn't doubt him when he said it was magic. And she had a pretty good feeling who the 'old acquaintance' he referenced was.

The compass had been gifted to him by Maleficent. Why had it recently become so easy to forget whose side Hook was on? Had she truly been so blinded by her own personal feelings for the man who was James Hook that she subconsciously made the effort to overlook that part of his being? But after all this time spent with him, Mia was learning that there was a gray area between good and evil.

She did not think Hook was all bad. But this reminder of who he served was a good, solid dose of reality. A reality she didn't want to consider but probably should. What would happen if Hook discovered her real identity? Would he turn her over to Maleficent? Or had they come to care enough about one another that he would take Mia's side in the matter? And was it audacious to think that a possibility? Certainly, the best course of action here was to continue to keep her true lineage a secret from him. But for how much longer? And what if Maleficent or one of the other Dark Ones came to call? What then?

By the time she reached the yardarms, Mia's hands and feet were chafed, but it was worth it for the view and the invigorating breeze on her face.

"Would you like to climb higher, Miss Baxter?" asked Bill Jukes. "We could go all the way to the crow's nest if you'd like."

"Can we?"

"Of course!"

Excitedly, Mia scaled the rigging, Bill following closely behind to make sure she didn't fall.

"You don't seem to be afraid of heights, Miss Baxter."

"I never have been. I used to climb a lot of trees when I was little."

"This climb is a bit higher than climbing trees, though."

"That's true," Mia admitted, starting to get somewhat anxious.

"The trick is not to look down, just out," said Bill helpfully.

"Good advice."

Finally, they reached the crow's nest. Bill helped Mia over the side. The view was breathtaking. There was nothing but ocean as far as the eye could see, and the water was a clear, crystal blue. Mia marveled at the way the sun sparkled like gems off the gentle, undulating waves. And when she looked up into the blue firmament, the fluffy clouds looked so close, Mia was almost convinced she could touch them if she but reached out her hand. Gulls called overhead, and the breeze ruffled her hair. The moment was full of such beauty and tranquility that Mia quite forgot about the frightening compass.

~~~

The afternoon was particularly hot, and so Hook and Mia took repose in his cabin. With his coat off and his shirt undone past his chest, Hook sat at his charting table, poring over his maps and updating his captain's log. Mia had exchanged her clothes for her chemise and was reclining on the lounge with her notebook and one of Hook's feathered quills, working diligently on what Hook assumed must be her memoirs.

Every so often, Hook stole a glance at her, watching her giggle softly every time the feather brushed against her face. Then, smiling to himself, he returned to his work. But when next he looked, she had dozed off, her notebook and quill discarded. A burning curiosity compelled him to rise and go to her. But it was not the girl's innocence he wished to steal in this moment of unguarded vulnerability. Instead, it was her notebook, for it was practically teasing him with the secrets that lay within its pages.

Upon closer inspection, it was no mere notebook. It was leather-bound with gold clasps which held it closed and a thin red ribbon with which to mark one's place. Indeed, such fine craftsmanship for a mere notebook. This, whatever it was, was for more than just jotting notes. This was special.

Silently, he took it and returned to his table. Hook reclined in his chair with his feet resting atop the table as he perused the book's contents. The inside cover of the leather-bound notebook was signed:

_To my talented daughter and future novelist: May your dreams find words within the pages of this book._

_~ Dad_

Well, that explained the high-quality of the book. It was a gift from her father. An encouraging man, it seemed, when it came to his daughter. Not for the first time, Hook felt a brief pang of guilt rise within him, but he quickly quashed it. Besides, there was something else that intrigued him. Particularly, the word _novelist._

It was true that Peter had taken Mia to Neverland to be his storyteller. It was the same reason he'd once taken Wendy Darling, and later Belle, Prince Adam's beau, to the island. And Mia had confirmed as much her first day aboard the Jolly Roger. So perhaps this high-quality notebook and the words within it shouldn't surprise him. But an aspiring novelist? Did Mia perhaps have a talent he'd neglected to cultivate?

He supposed he'd overlooked the possibility; for the moment he laid eyes on her sketchbook and the artwork within it, he'd become smitten with that particular talent. Gazing around his cabin now at all the beautiful canvass paintings which hung upon its walls, all done by Mia's hand over the past several days, it wasn't any wonder he should be so taken with it. But now, perhaps, it was time to see if she did, in fact, possess another talent worth cultivating. And so, Hook skimmed through the book.

Mia had nearly filled it. Some were completed works, others were incomplete. Some were short stories, others were more ambitious pieces of prose, while others still were simply outlines and disjointed thoughts and whatever fancies that entered her head, but no less intriguing. Hook skipped to the last page, curious to see what she'd most recently been working on so diligently.

_As the captain's lips claimed the young woman's, she found herself helpless to resist. His kisses were both sweet and salty; salty like the sea upon which he sailed, and sweet in the way in which he kissed her. And yet there was a roughness to his kiss. It was hungry and forceful. It was the kiss of a man who has staked his claim on a woman and refuses to take no for an answer._

_In that moment, the hapless young damsel was horrified to discover a deeper, darker part of herself; a part that secretly longed to be his. Now she was losing herself to the feel of his rough kisses and the sensation of his arms around her. And yet, she still struggled and fought against her true feelings because she knew she must. Only, she no longer remembered_ why _she must._

It was a rather heated piece of prose, to be sure. And eloquently written, to boot! Yes, this girl had talent here as well. But what really interested him was the implication of this particular passage. Although it was written as a third-person narrative, it seemed to him to be more of a true-to-life testimony. A wide grin spread across Hook's face. It was then he heard a stirring. Guiltily, he leapt to his feet to see that Mia had awoken. She was sitting on the chaise lounge and gazing at him in horror. It was clear she'd had no intentions of showing him the contents of her notebook.

Hook's grin returned. " _That_ , my dear, was some _very_ interesting literature, to say the least. Especially that little excerpt in the back."

Mia was aghast. "B-But that's private! I don't let _anyone_ read my stories! Besides, most of it's unfinished anyway. A-As for that part in the back, that's just..." Swallowing, she lowered her gaze, her fingers twiddling nervously in her lap. "I've been attempting to write a swashbuckling novel for some time now," she mumbled. "And I just thought I'd use some personal experience as inspiration."

"You never let anyone read your stories?" asked Hook, his brow furrowing. "Why ever not? The bit that I read in there was very well-written. It's enticing literature."

Mia shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose my father has read some..." At least one of her two fathers had. She'd never shared any with her biological father. Perhaps that was wrong. He was the Dreamfinder, after all. Who, if not him, was worthier of hearing her stories? Trying not to feel guilty, she added. "But he possesses a parent's bias, I'm sure."

"That's always possible, but that doesn't mean your work isn't good. Why have you never bothered to test that theory?"

"Because," she said lowering her head. "Because it _isn't_ good. _I'm_ not that good. And it's... embarrassing."

"Mia," he said, approaching her with her notebook in hand. "Everything you've just said is a grand heap of rubbish. What I have read within these pages is hardly lackluster. They're quite good. Though, I admit I was only sampling. Besides, if you've written all these and shared them with absolutely no one, then what was the point in writing them? Stories are written to be read. If they're never read, then they may as well not exist."

Mia tilted her head in contemplation. "I guess I never thought of it that way before. That's so profound and yet so simple. I guess you must think me really silly. But..." She sighed and shook her head. "That's just it. I _have_ let people read my writings before. It was a long time ago, but..."

For the second time in recent history, memories from the past came to her.

_"You wrote a poem about Cody?"  
"No, please, Jenny! Don't read it out loud!"  
"His eyes are like an oasis beneath sweeping lashes that flutter like a butterfly's wings... Oh wow! How embarrassing for you, Cody! Mia thinks you look like a butterfly!"  
"It's a metaphor!"  
"Well, it's really dumb."_

_"Mia, we're pulling your story from the contest."  
"But I worked really hard on it!"  
"Crown Thorn Prep cannot condone such a bawdy, Rabelaisian work of fiction."  
"But it's meant to be satirical!"  
"Then it is clear to me that you haven't the slightest idea how to write satire, Mia."_

_"You're just trying to get more views."  
"No! I just wanted to give everyone a voice!"  
"It's just for shock value."  
"No, it's not! It's integral to the plot!"  
"Your writing sucks."_

_"Your technical skills are average at best, and your imagination leaves a lot to be desired."_  
"My imagination?"  
"Many of your concepts are trite and gratuitous... ingratiating and shamelessly self-promoting. You are simply not cut out to be a writer."

"Mia? Darling, what's wrong?" Hook placed a finger against her cheek, catching a stray tear that she didn't realize had fallen.

Mia shook her head. "Look, I just... I have my reasons for not wanting anyone to read them. All right?"

"It's not all right," he said sternly. Then, a little more gently, he said, "For what reason do you not wish to share your stories? What hurtful memory has you looking so morose?"

He was so insightful. Sometimes she felt he could read _her_ like a book. And so, helplessly, she spilled everything.

She spoke of the time in Junior High when she'd written a poem about a boy she liked in school, and how a girl who was supposed to be her friend read it out loud to the class, embarrassing both her and the boy in question, and how afterwards, Cody never spoke to her again. About the time in high school when she submitted a piece of prose for a Young Writer's contest and how it was pulled from the contest because a teacher thought it inappropriate and refused to see it as an attempt at satire. Of how she'd once gathered up her courage to post one of her stories on the internet (though, here, of course, she was careful to use the word 'Diznet') and had been mocked and chastised for creating a character from a marginalized background to be her protagonist. And finally, she regaled him with the incident which led her to drop out of college, the cruel words spoken by the head of the writing department, a woman she referred to as Professor Tremblay, as she knew that she mustn't share the woman's true identity.

When she was finished, Hook was seething. "What cruelty! If I had my way, every last one of them would be strung upside-down from the highest yardarm and given nine lashes with the cat, then promptly thrown to the sharks!" He shook his head as he took a seat beside Mia. "Surely you must see that all those people were either jealous of your talent or just simpleminded fools."

"It still hurts," she mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. "And I guess my confidence has been shattered ever since." She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "I always thought it'd be wonderful to be a novelist. But at the same time, it scares me – the thought of not being good enough... or being laughed at."

"That, my dear, is your problem. You care too much about what other people think." Hook picked up the discarded quill at her feet and held it out to her. "You have to use your pen for something other than satisfying them."

Mia cocked an eyebrow.

"A true novelist," he elaborated, "writes from the heart, as I can clearly see you do. What's important is that you remember to write for _you_. Not for anyone else."

"But I thought you said stories are meant to be read."

"They are! Naturally! But you don't write to satisfy other people. You write what makes _you_ happy. Then, you put it out there for all to see. Some people will like it, others won't. But the ones who do are your audience, your niche! Those who don't, well, dash the lot! They're not your audience, then. Don't dedicate your time and energy to them. Stories are out there, floating in the space of every creative mind. They must be told the way they must be told. The writer is but a servant, an instrument. They write the story as they have already seen it."

"Sort of like how a sculptor might see the shape of his statue inside the block of marble before he even chisels it," said Mia, catching on.

"Exactly! You must write the story as you see it in your head." He gave her forehead a gentle prod with his finger. "It's not your job to cater to your audience's whim. They can either go along for the ride and enjoy what's there, or fight a useless battle that they can never win and waste their time complaining. The latter is a fool's endeavor."

"Who'd have thought I'd be getting a pep talk from Captain Hook about storytelling," said Mia with a smile, but her frown soon returned. "Still... even a good pep talk isn't enough to reverse years of conditioning. I guess I'm still not quite ready to take that next step. I don't know if I'll ever stop doubting myself."

"In that case, perhaps an exercise in self-confidence is needed." Hook handed her back her notebook and opened it to the page which began her swashbuckling tale. "We will sit here together, and you will read me your stories. This way, you'll have an audience who can appreciate good writing and properly critique you when necessary."

Mia's eyes widened. "R-Read my own stories?" she squeaked. "Out loud? Um... Wouldn't you rather read it to yourself... quietly? You could still give me feedback. I'm not sure how I'd feel about reading my own work out loud."

Indeed, she'd not even granted that courtesy to Tiana, who had also attempted to aid her in confidence-building. She'd only regaled her with verbal synopses and summaries of her stories. But reading them out loud... that was entirely different!

"Reading them to myself will do nothing to boost your courage. I want to hear these stories as their author intended them." Hook's eyes narrowed. "And the way I see it, if they can be read to Pan... they can be read to me!"

He was getting riled up, as he always did when thinking about Peter Pan. And the idea that she'd read her stories to Peter while refusing to read to him, James Hook, was enough to get his blood, and his jealousy, boiling. Mia quickly sought to correct his assumption.

"L-Listen, most of the stories I told Peter and the Lost Boys were not my own. When I finally did share one of my own with them, it was more of a recital from memory than it was me actually reading it out loud."

Hook's arms were crossed. Was he... pouting? And why did he look so damn adorable doing it? Mia chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, as she knew that would only make him angrier.

"Besides," she said. "You have to understand the difference here. Reading to Peter... it felt _safe_ , you know? Because he's so ignorant. But you... you're an educated man. A connoisseur of the arts and high cultured in spite of your profession. Can't you see why that's more unnerving for me?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mia," he said, though she could see the corner of his mouth twitching. "Besides..."

He leaned towards her and did something he hadn't done in a long time. He placed his hook beneath her chin, almost threateningly, tilting her head with its curve to look at him.

"You may consider this, not a request, but an _order_ from your captain!"

Mia gulped nervously. _Her_ captain, indeed! She'd never signed up to be part of his crew. Nevertheless, he could not and _would_ not be denied. Although she'd come to like James Hook rather a lot, there was no telling what he might do if she refused a direct order. And so, Mia did the only thing she could do. She cleared her throat, held her notebook to her face and rather timidly proceeded.

"Th-The harbor was b-bustling as usual," she mumbled, "as the young girl—"

"No, no, no! You've got to do better than that, my dear. In fact, I _know_ you can do better than that!" Then, a little more gently -- "Look... Close your eyes for a moment. Take a deep breath."

Mia did as he asked.

"Now imagine you're reading it to... your father, perhaps."

For a moment, Mia was a little unnerved, as she always was when her father came up in conversation. She always feared Hook might inquire more deeply about him. It seemed nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't yet. But perhaps Hook simply didn't like thinking about her as somebody's little girl. After all, considering the things he'd said and done to her...

Now Mia was blushing. She mustn't allow her thoughts to wander to such places. She needed to put it out of her mind for the moment. Reading to her father... Blair Mercurial... Perhaps even... the other one. Who was he again? Edmund? Edward? Yes! Edward! For a moment, she'd forgotten his name again, something which continuously caused her dismay.

Hook watched as a confusing series of emotions passed over Mia's face. Her brow furrowed and she closed her eyes tighter. Perhaps this was an internal struggle to find her courage. Whatever the case, it must have worked, for, after taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and began to read in a louder and more assertive voice. Now it became evident why Pan cherished her so. Not only were her stories entertaining, but the way she recited them was both articulate and lovely.

"The harbor was bustling as usual while the young girl stood at the docks, awaiting the man she knew would come. Captain Rowen Callaway was greatly beloved by the denizens of Port Lyons, but none loved him more than Laura, the teenage daughter of the local tavern owner."

Hook leaned sideways, resting his elbow on the arm of the chaise lounge as he listened to the first tale written by this undiscovered talent sitting beside him.

"For many moons she waited his arrival. Every third month he came to Port Lyons to do business and stay at her father's tavern. Laura loved the stories he told of his adventures at sea, and she longed for her own seafaring adventure. But she was still too young, and her father would never allow such a thing. Besides that, she was his greatest help at the tavern. She could not so easily abandon him.

"Nevertheless, she often listened to Captain Callaway's stories late into the evenings as the fire crackled in the hearth and the more boisterous patrons had gone. He shared his tales gladly with any who would listen, often with a buxom wench on his lap, one which poor Laura, at so young an age, could not yet hold a candle to. But still she listened to his tales, often slacking in her duties and earning her an admonishment from her father.

"But late at night, when the fire was mere embers burning in the hearth, Laura would come down the stairs to find the captain alone in the tavern, reclined with his feet up on the table, smoking a pipe. She would pour him a pint on the house and sit in front of him by the fire as he told her more stories. That had been her routine for so long, she could not imagine anything else. And so it was that she now awaited his prophesied arrival; the man she loved. The man no one realized was a pirate."

And just like that, Hook, the legendary villain, found himself entranced by the story regaled to him, as well as the young woman who read it. Mia had his undivided attention. Nothing could take his eyes and ears away from her as she continued her tale. His enraptured silence encouraged her to continue.

"This time was much the same as any other. Captain Callaway arrived in the harbor of Port Lyons, his ship flying the queen's flag. He stepped down from the gangplank and Laura ran to meet him. He was unaccompanied. His crew always remained on deck. Laura didn't know why this was, but she was not one to complain about having the captain to herself. The captain greeted her exuberance with his usual debonair smile, placing his tricorn hat atop her head. Giggling, Laura accompanied him on his errands, and finally to The Lyon's Tavern, of which her father was the proprietor."

It was a fine way to spend a balmy afternoon. Mia had become so engrossed in reading her own story that she hardly noticed when Hook removed his shirt, which had begun to cling unpleasantly to his skin in the unrelenting heat. And when he sprawled out across the lounge and rested his head in her lap, she absently trailed her fingers through his long raven hair as she continued to read.

"When Captain Callaway revealed over dinner that night that he would not be returning to Port Lyons for a few years at least, giving only vague explanations to those who asked, Laura's heart sank. She had hoped to confess her love to him when she was a little older, but now there was a chance she may never see him again. She could not risk it. If Captain Callaway were to leave and never return, she must profess her love at once."

Mia continued to read late into the evening until the sound of the supper bell interrupted them, reminding them that they were hungry. Over dinner, Hook had nothing but good things to say about her story thus far.

"It reminds me of the stories my mother used to read to me," he said.

"Really?" asked Mia, intrigued.

Hook nodded. "She read to me every night before bed with my head in her lap and her hand trailing through my hair, much as you did." Hook lifted his wine glass and gazed over it at Mia. "I suppose in some ways you remind me of her," he said softly.

Mia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't know what to say. There was a stirring in her heart. Was it pity? Sorrow? Or was it something else?

Hook took a long, slow sip of wine. And though Mia desperately wanted to inquire more about his mother, she refrained from doing so. Somehow, she felt it wasn't the time. It was still too soon. But maybe, someday, he'd let her in on that part of his life.

~~~

The late afternoon sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the deck of The Stinger, a modest clipper captained by Bartholomew Trudeau, a young up-and-coming pirate recently exiled from Paridon, who was lucky enough to have arrived at Isla Tesoro after the destruction wrought by James Hook and The Jolly Roger. Captain Trudeau had gone ashore with several other men, leaving a small skeleton crew behind. But the rumors of what had occurred almost a week ago had reached even their ears, and they counted themselves lucky not to have been involved.

James Hook had left the southern shore of the island a ravaged mess, and a massive cleanup initiative had been undertaken. Wreckage floated in the water near the docks, which had yet to be fished out; the only remaining evidence of the battle which had taken place here a week prior. But the crew of The Stinger had missed the whole thing. The ship sat, happily moored, at one of the few remaining docks.

A young man by the name of Crothers remained aboard, swabbing the deck and whistling a jaunty little tune to himself, enjoying the quiet evening's work when the light from the setting sun cast a feminine shadow across the deck.

"Eh?"

Crothers glanced up. It was hard to see with the light shining directly behind her, but he could just make out the figure of a woman with dark wavy hair, shapely hips, and long, supple legs silhouetted against the blood red sun.

"Oy... Who's there, eh? What'cha doing aboard this... uh... uh..." He squinted his eyes, doing his best to take in what he was looking at. As he inched closer, the alluring figure finally began to take on a more detailed shape. "Uhm... Hey... What'cha doing here?" he asked in a tone that wasn't the slightest bit intimidating.

At his inquiry, the woman let out a feminine giggle and darted behind the main mast. As Crothers neared, she peeked around the other side of it, and finally he could see that she was a young woman of remarkable beauty. In fact, he was fairly certain he'd never seen a woman as beautiful as this one before. Her long, dark brown, almost black hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders and over a perky bosom contained within a dark, velvet corset. Giggling again, she beckoned to him with a curled finger.

Crothers couldn't believe it. This woman wanted _him?_ He hardly considered himself the most attractive man on the crew. But how could he deny this beautiful temptress? As he drew closer, she again darted behind the main mast, the hem of her light blue skirt trailing after her. This woman was playful and mischievous. And most of all, a tease. If he wanted to meet this mysterious beauty, he was going to have to work for it.

A smile spread across Crothers' face as he darted around the side of the main mast, trying to follow the woman. "Oy, now! C'mon... don't be shy! I won't hurt you!" He quickly went around the mast, looking to catch up with her. "Be nice, now, eh? Who are ya?"

Around and around Crothers and the beautiful woman went about the main mast, occasionally switching directions, and still the beautiful temptress eluded him, her mirthful giggles teasing his ears. When he finally thought he'd caught her, he realized she was nowhere to be found. Around the mast he went once more, but there was no sign of her, nor any sound of her mirthful laughter.

The sun had set below the horizon line. The only light remaining was the pale purple light of twilight. There was an eerie quality to the atmosphere as Crothers felt a tap on his shoulder. A small grin came to his face.

"Ah! There you are!"

He spun around, expecting to see the enchanting young woman, but was instead greeted by a sight which filled his heart with dread – a somewhat thicker-bodied woman whose torso ended in a writhing mass of inky black tentacles. And it was one such appendage which now rested on his shoulder. His eyes turned to frightened pinpricks as he realized that he'd been teased and taunted by none other than...

"THE SEA WITCH!"

The woman's ruby red lips spread into a mischievous smile across her lavender face. "How very perceptive," she cooed as she thrust a tentacle at him. The tentacle wrapped around Crothers' neck and lifted him off his feet. "I seek James Hook," she said in a husky voice. "Might you know where to find him, lovey? There's a reward in it for you if you do."

Crothers' legs kicked in the air as his hands attempted to pry the tendril from around his throat, but to no avail. Gasping and gagging, he attempted to answer.

"Hhkk! Huk! G-Gnn! Huks... G-nn!" He couldn't get a proper word out, as she had a firm grip on his throat. He was trying to say something, but it all came out as strangled grunts.

Ursula frowned almost pityingly. "Oh dear... I do apologize. Here. Let me loosen my grip."

The tentacle retracted from his neck and Crothers dropped to his knees on the deck, desperately drawing in air. Ursula leaned down towards him, her long silver hair falling around her shoulders as she gazed at him with a face that was fuller, but not entirely unattractive.

"What was that you were saying, dear?"

Once he'd regained his breath, Crothers stammered a response. "Nngh... H-Hook... C-Captain Hook... He's gone from 'ere! A-A-About a week ago! The J-Jolly Roger hasn't been seen around 'ere since! H-He's not 'ere! P-Please... D-Don't kill me!" He tumbled to his bottom and scurried away until his back was pressed against the main mast.

Ursula grinned wickedly. "Well, my good man, you're very fortunate. For you see... not killing you was the very reward I was offering in return for that information. Lucky for you, you knew the answer to my query."

A shudder crept up the young pirate's spine, and yet he felt strangely relieved. He gave her the information she wanted, which meant she was going to spare his life.

"However..." She reached down and took his chin in her hand. "There _is_ one more thing... _Where_ has he gone?"

Suddenly, Crothers' mouth felt really dry. His eyes were wide as saucers. He didn't know the answer to that! And if he didn't know the answer... then the Sea Witch would...

"W-W-We weren't here! I-I-I don't..." Suddenly, it hit him. He didn't know the location, but he knew the direction. "SOUTH! We heard that they had a s-southward heading! T-That's all I know! I swear!"

"Hmm... Well, I suppose I can't fault you for not being here when he left," she mused reasonably. "And lucky for you, I know which direction south is." She let out an amused laugh, but one which sounded positively chilling to Crothers. She released his chin. "Very well. You've pleased me, Sailor. I will spare your life."

Crothers' eyes closed and he clasped his hands together as though in prayer. "Oh! Oh, th-thank you! Thank you so much! Y-Y-Your kindness knows no b-bounds!" He was pleased to be so lucky. He'd thought for sure that an encounter with the dreaded Sea Witch meant his life was forfeit.

Ursula rolled her eyes at the man's groveling. It was then panicked shouts arose from behind her.

"IT'S HER! THE SEA WITCH!"

Ursula turned to see more pirates had returned to the ship, and they were all pointing their weapons at her. Crothers' face paled.

"Oh... oh no..."

Armed with swords, guns, knives, and anything else they could think of, the men brandished their weapons at the sea witch.

"KILL THE WITCH!"

Ursula snapped her fingers, once more transforming into her maidenly guise. "Really now," she huffed. "I'm offended. Pointing your weapons at a young damsel? Men like you ought to be taught a lesson. Rude manners begets rude manners, after all."

She glanced over her shoulder at the cowering pirate, and although she wore the guise of the beautiful maiden, she spoke in the low, husky, formidable voice of her true form.

"You may want to run."

Then, with a wicked gleam in her eye, she brought her fingers to her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. In the waters beyond the ship, there was suddenly a surge of giant bubbles, as though a volcano had just erupted beneath the surface. Then, there was a great swell and a giant tentacle rose up from the water.

Ursula leapt nimbly onto the bulwarks, holding onto the rigging as the giant tentacle plummeted, almost in slow motion, towards the ship. Crothers did the only thing he could think to do. He ran and dove over the bulwarks into the waters below just as the giant tentacle slammed into the deck of The Stinger. A great crack split through the center, and the ship began to bow inwards. From the splintered wood the tentacle slowly rose, preparing to come down a second time. With a wicked cackle that hardly matched her outward appearance, the dark-haired maiden dove into the water as several other tentacles latched onto the ship.

The pretty little head bobbed above the surface of the water, laughing as she watched her kraken tear the ship asunder and devour the insolent pirates. "Ha ha ha! Those poor, unfortunate souls! They really shouldn't test me like that. I have an infamously short temper, after all. Now then..."

Slowly, she turned southward to face the darkening sky.

"You won't be able to elude me for much longer, James, my sweet little angelfish... I'm getting closer."

With another laugh, the dark-haired maiden transformed once more. Then, with a splash of tentacles, she dove into the water, disappearing in a cloud of black ink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: "You have to use your pen for something other than satisfying them," is a quote borrowed from the song, "Live By the Hook" in the stage production of "Finding Neverland," in which a vision of the character of Captain Hook comes to J.M. Barrie in the playwright's moment of weakness and feelings of ineptitude, revealing that he is Barrie's darker side, always suppressed, never let free, and convinces him to gather his courage and write his play despite what others may think. His one request? "Be sure to write a part for me." I saw this production recently and couldn't resist borrowing the line. Sorry for the long note. Must give credit where credit is due.


	40. The Sea Witch

As the sun set below the horizon line and the stars came out to play, the lanterns were lit and the pirates held court on the deck of the Jolly Roger. With the day's work done, this was their time to play. Once more properly dressed, Mia stepped outside the cabin to take in the cool night air. Mr. Shaye was sitting on a barrel playing his accordion as he began to belt out a little shanty. Mia couldn't resist stealing a seat on the barrel beside him and taking the opportunity to do a quick sketch of the swashbuckling musician.

The ocean was calm and serene. The breeze ruffled Mia's hair. As she lifted her head to it, her eyes met Hook's across the ship and she smiled at him. As the tempo quickened, Bill Jukes appeared at her side, offering her a short little bow.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Baxter?"

Mia flushed embarrassedly. "I, um, I don't really know how."

Bill smiled. "That's all right. I'll teach you. Come!"

Reluctantly, Mia set her sketchbook aside and followed the cabin boy to the center of the deck. It wasn't a slow dance like at prom. No moshing involved, either. And pirates certainly didn't twerk. This was a sort of jig-like dance, something Mia had seen pirates do in old swashbuckling films, with a lot of footwork involved.

Bill was patient with her and a good teacher, and soon enough Mia was getting the hang of it. She hiked up her skirt and matched his feet, step for step. Then they were linking arms and skipping one way, and then the next. Suddenly, she was passed off to the quartermaster, Mr. Starkey, and then even old Mr. Smee, who in spite of his usual silliness, was actually quite a good dancer. As Mia spun and twirled across the deck, her long auburn hair ruffled prettily in the breeze and her feminine laughter carried across the ship, a delightful sound which was not often heard aboard the Jolly Roger.

It was a pleasant night. In fact, it may well have been the most delightful night aboard the ship in years. The crew's morale was skyrocketing. And it was all because of the girl... the girl whom Hook could not take his eyes off of. Mia may well be the best thing to happen aboard the Jolly Roger in a very long time, and the best thing to happen to him, personally.

Hook did not mind his men taking turns dancing with the girl. They wouldn't try anything untoward. Not under his watchful eye. In fact, watching Mia having such a good time with the crew brought a smile to his face. If she was beginning to enjoy herself here, then perhaps there truly was a future for her aboard his ship, with his crew... and with him.

Hook descended the quarterdeck, crossing the main deck in the midst of his crew's merry-making. As the lively dancing came to an end, Mia was passed off, right into the embrace of their captain. Hook's gaze flicked to the pirate playing the accordion.

"Slow the tempo, Mr. Shaye."

"Aye, sir!"

The accordion slowed to a melody of a different nature as Hook led Mia to the center of the deck for a slow, graceful, waltz. He danced in the smooth, elegant manner that only a man of good breeding can accomplish, reminding Mia that he was more than just a simple pirate. Of course, this only made Mia all the more self-conscious.

"I'm not very good," she said apologetically, gazing at her feet so as not to get tripped up.

"That, my dear, is why you let _me_ lead. If you can work your feet around those fast-paced jigs, I'm sure you can ease into a more intimate dance." As though to emphasize this, his left hand moved to the small of her back.

Blushing, Mia's hand curled around the base of his hook as she followed his lead. "But with this sort of dance, there's a bit more pressure to perform, don't you think?"

Hook chuckled softly. "The only pressure you should feel, dear, is this one."

His hand pressed more firmly against her back, pulling her closer so that she could feel the pressure of their bodies against one another as they swayed gently to the music. Hot shivers ran down Mia's spine at the placement of his hand. Oh, she had it bad if this was all it took.

The crew had gone silent. The only sound to be heard was Hook and Mia's booted feet clopping delicately across the deck and the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the ship as they were serenaded by Mr. Shaye's accordion. A canopy of stars hung in the velvet black sky above them, and Mia couldn't help thinking just how romantic this was. Lyrics from a song, not-so-long forgotten, entered her head.

_I know you  
I walked with you once upon a dream  
I know you  
The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_

This dance wasn't too dissimilar to the sort she'd seen or imagined between a fairytale prince and princess. But instead, Mia discovered that _her_ prince was a debonair, roguish captain of the high seas. And yet, the dance... it was all the same. The sorts of things little girls' dreams are made of.

As the melody came to an end, Hook lowered her into a graceful dip. And it was there he held her, as they gazed into one another's eyes. If there was ever any pressure to perform, Mia felt it most keenly now. Her hand moved to the back of his head, her fingers entangling themselves in his raven hair as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him with a passion that had been building ever since their escape from Isla Tesoro. She could no longer deny her feelings. And though she still could not speak them, she could at least show them. Like this.

At first, Hook seemed surprised by her actions. But he was quick to reciprocate. Hook pulled Mia out of the dip and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around as he kissed her with a triumphant fire. The sounds of the crew were muffled in Mia's ears, as all she could hear was the beating of her heart, which, to her, was not so unlike the sound of waves pounding against a rocky shore.

Hook set her back on her feet. As their lips parted for breath, their foreheads met and they gazed deeply into one another's eyes. It was truly a blissful moment. Never had they felt more connected... and then the ruckus began.

A chorus of 'Ooohs' resounded across the deck, accompanied by laughter and applause, cheers and cat-calls. One pirate shouted, "I bleedin' knew it! I told ya'! Now pay up, Jukes!"

Hook spun towards them without releasing Mia, resulting in him placing her in an awkward headlock. "BELAY THAT NONSENSE, YOU SCURVY BILGERATS!"

"Hook!" grumbled Mia, yanking her head out from under his arm.

"Oh. Sorry, dear. It's a reflex."

Mia glared irritably at him; her hair tousled. Hook tilted his head back and laughed. Then he ruffled her hair and placed his hat atop her head.

"As you were," he said to his crew, and they took up their nightly revelry once more. "Come," he said, offering his arm to Mia.

Mia tilted his hat further back on her head so she could see beyond its wide brim. Then she took his arm and allowed him to lead her across the deck away from the rumpus. He led her to the quarter deck and took a seat on the stairs, pulling her into his lap.

"Mia..." he said softly.

"James," she said, blushing.

"Are you happy here?"

Mia gave it some deliberation. "Yes," she said slowly. "But..."

"But you miss your family... and your friends," he finished for her.

"Aye."

Hook sighed. "Perhaps... Perhaps something can be done about that."

Mia turned her head to look at him, her expression one of disbelief.

"I still cannot sail near Cerenopia," he said, shaking his head. "It would surely be the death of me. But perhaps I could still find a way to get you there safely."

"Do you really mean that?" asked Mia.

"If that is what you wish," he said softly, his gaze straying from hers.

Mia had the strong suspicion that it hurt him to offer this, and she loved him all the more for it. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, James."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. He was pleased to make her happy, but hated the idea of letting her leave. Nevertheless, he would do what he must... for his Mia.

"Understand, however, that this will take some planning. It is not something that can happen overnight. It could still be a long time before I'm able to work something out. And I'm not just saying that because I don't want you to leave," he quickly added.

"I know," she said solemnly. "Otherwise you wouldn't have offered."

"There's a lot of planning to be done. Precautions to be taken. But I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to get you home."

"Thank you," she said again, earnestly. "You don't know what this means to me."

Home! She was going home! Back to her father and dragon, back to her friends, back to safety, away from the Dark Ones and the possibility of discovery. Away from...

"James," she said, frowning. "If I go back... will I ever see you again?"

Hook took a long, slow breath. Then, he directed her gaze to the stars. "Look at them, Mia. Aren't they beautiful tonight? Must be the clearest night I've seen in quite a while." He pointed directly above them. "That's Ozstar. The north star."

"Oh," said Mia. "Sort of like Polaris."

"Polaris?" asked Hook furrowing his brow. "I'm afraid I don't know that one."

_Shit. I shouldn't have said that._

She'd fallen into such complacency with Hook that she'd nearly forgotten that she must exercise caution in the things she said; things that would reveal she was from Earth.

"Oh, it was just... just something I heard once," she said, trying to sound dismissive. "I don't remember where. It's probably wrong. So, what about the others?"

Hook's finger moved to the right. "That one there is Mik's star. It's always the brightest. Then there's Taran's Sword, which wayfinders use to guide them at sea," he said, pointing to a constellation at the upper right of the firmament, which indeed looked like a sword pointing downwards. "Then the Buccaneer's Hat," he said, pointing to a tricorn-shaped constellation, "which leads the way to Isla Tesoro, the scallywag's safe harbor."

"Cool," said Mia, admiringly.

She waited; waited for him to tell her how to use them all to find him again. But he never did. It was then she realized that he had no secrets, no special techniques on how she could find him. He had only been trying to distract her, distract them both, from the one sorrow shared between the two of them – that when she returned to Cerenopia, there was a high likelihood that they'd not see one another again.

Unless Mia could somehow find Neverland on her own, which was unlikely, then James Hook would be forever lost to her. And what had she expected, really? They were on different sides of an ideological war. He with the bad guys, she with the good guys. It wasn't like they could just visit each other, even if they _did_ know how to find one another.

Mia rose to her feet. "I'm tired," she said tremulously. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Mia..."

But she spoke not another word as she placed his hat back upon his head and hurried into the cabin. Hook sighed as he gazed up at the stars again, watching as a dark, inky black cloud moved across the sky, slowly blotting them out. The wind picked up and the waves began to rock the ship a little more forcefully.

"Rough waters tonight, Cap'n," said Cecco from the helm. "Storm's a brewin'."

Hook joined him at the helm. "It's _her,_ " he said in an undertone. "She's coming."

Cecco's eyes widened. "The Sea W—"

But Hook quickly signaled him to be silent.

"W-What should we do, Cap'n?"

"Keep her steady," said Hook, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "And keep a weather eye. She will come tonight, if I'm not mistaken. But there is no reason to fear. My associates will not harm us, so long as we do nothing to cross them."

"A-Aye, sir."

"In the meantime," said Hook, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Spread the word... Should you encounter the Sea Witch, speak nothing of Miss Baxter. Any man who breathes a word of that girl's presence aboard my ship will soon find it will be his last."

Cecco nodded his understanding. Taking a deep breath, Hook turned towards his cabin, hesitating just outside the door. He closed his eyes and drew in another breath. Then, he opened the door.

Mia sat at the back of the cabin in front of the expansive window overlooking the sea from the stern, but she was not admiring the view. Instead, she was curled up with her knees drawn to her chest and her face buried in them. As Hook entered, Mia glanced up. Her eyes were red and she quickly wiped away the incriminating tears from her cheeks. Wordlessly, Hook took off his coat and hat and walked towards her.

"This isn't..." Mia stammered. "I-I wasn't—"

Hook took her into his arms and kissed her. His kiss was rough, passionate, and longing. And when he lifted her off her feet and carried her to his bed, she made no protest.

~~~

They lay side by side in the bed, Hook's arm around her and Mia with her head resting on his shoulder as she read aloud to him by the dim light of the gently swinging lanterns.

"In their eyes, the stowaway situation had been resolved. When Captain Callaway returned, the girl was gone, and in her place Callaway's pockets jingled with the gold coins from her sale. He divvied the prize up among the crew, who marveled that the girl had fetched such a handsome price. But the captain was not alone upon his return. He was accompanied by a young boy – small, slender, and feminine in appearance, but otherwise able-bodied. According to the captain, this was to be their new cabin boy.

"Cabin boys often suffered the abuse of their superiors, but the captain was particularly protective of this one. He claimed it was the son of his long-lost and recently deceased sister, and that the boy had nowhere else to go. The crew wouldn't dare cross their formidable captain, and so they treated the boy well, often with claims of, 'We'll make you into a real man, yet,' which always seemed to bring a look of nervousness to the boy's soft features.

"But from henceforth, the captain began making strange requests. Namely, that the boy, his alleged nephew, was not to sleep below decks with the crew. Instead, he kept the young man in his cabin at night. Rumors began to spread like wildfire upon the ship. The crew did not care for the way Captain Callaway mollycoddled the boy. It was said by most that the captain had gone 'soft.' These rumors did not go unnoticed by the captain. It seemed his secret was at risk of being discovered. And if it was, there may well be a mutiny, in which case it would seem the only way to settle the problem and save his own skin was by offering Laura up as collateral to his crew."

Mia let out a yawn. Her words were becoming slower and slurred. Hook gently took the book from her, holding it in his one good hand as he finished the page aloud himself.

"That night, watching the girl, whom he'd disguised as a boy in the interest of her own safety, sleep soundly in his bed, Rowan Callaway realized that he loved her. He could not allow anything to happen to her. But protecting her meant giving up his entire way of life, not to mention the risk of being tracked down and punished, perhaps even killed, for his treachery..."

He trailed off as Mia rolled onto her side, resting her head upon his bare chest.

"Don't worry," she yawned. "I'm still listening. Besides... I already know... how it ends."

Smiling softly, Hook finished the last paragraph.

"Nevertheless, love triumphed over all. And so, the following night, just before dawn, Captain Callaway took his beloved Laura and slipped silently away into one of the longboats. As they rowed off into the rising dawn, Laura smiled at Rowan, knowing that she had found her man and that her love had changed him... for the better."

Slowly, he closed the notebook.

"My dear, that story was positively..."

He glanced at her, seeing that she'd fallen asleep. Gently, he lifted a tendril of wayward hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Beautiful."

Pressing a kiss to Mia's forehead, Hook pulled her into his arms and settled down for sleep.

~~~

Never was there a more contented pair.

But that was all to end.

It happened in the dead of night, trailing into early morning. The stars still shone faintly in an inky black sky when Hook awoke to a thump on deck. It was such a subtle noise, one most people would sleep through, and Mia was no exception. She lay serenely at his side, the coverlet pulled up to her bosom, and his shirt sliding off one of her shoulders. Hook, however, was so accustomed to the sounds of his ship, that the instant something unusual happened, he knew. It was like a bug alighting upon his flesh, as though the Jolly Roger were somehow a part of him; an extension of himself. The sound was soon followed by a soft cry, which was abruptly silenced. Mia slept on, unaware of the peculiarity, but not Hook.

Carefully, Hook extracted himself from Mia and re-dressed in just his pants, boots, and coat. He reattached his hook and tucked a loaded pistol into his belt. Mia stirred briefly, but did not awaken. Silently, Hook left the sleeping girl to investigate the sound, fearing what he already knew he'd find.

He stepped out onto the deck. Then, he saw her. The moonlight shone on her shimmering silver hair which cascaded past her shoulders and spilled across her heaving bosom. Her pale, corpulent body descended into what, at first glance, appeared to be an inky black dress, but upon closer inspection, ended in eight writhing appendages. And it was one such appendage that had wrapped itself around Bill Jukes' waist, pinning his arms to his sides as he struggled helplessly.

So, she'd finally caught up to him. Gently, quietly, Hook closed the door to the cabin. Though, in his attempt at stealth, the door didn't quite shut all the way.

"Now tell me, for I won't ask again," said the Sea Witch in a husky voice. "Where is that delicious captain of yours?"

Hook stepped away from the cabin as he addressed the unwelcome visitor. "Kindly do me the favor of releasing my cabin boy from your tendrils, madam. Obviously, what you seek stands before you now."

Ursula's head swiveled at the sound of his voice, her long silver hair flying prettily about a plump but no less attractive face. Her bright red lips spread across her lavender skin in a wide smile.

"James Hook... darling..."

She released Bill at once, sending him plummeting hard to the deck. With a strangled cry, he scooted backwards on his bottom before turning and running below decks like hell itself were after him.

"I _do_ apologize for that, but he was being so terribly disagreeable." Ursula approached the captain, her slithering appendages making popping and slapping sounds as she came to him across the deck. "Besides," she said silkily as her tentacles encircled Hook and drew him towards her so that he was face to face with her. "You know it's _you_ I'd like to have in my tendrils." One such tendril reached up and slowly caressed his cheek with the smooth side.

Hook visibly winced, unsuccessfully suppressing a shudder of revulsion "I'm... sure... you would." He pushed her tentacle away from his face, doing his best to regain his composure. "I'd had forewarnings of your coming, Ursula. Just what is it that you want so badly from me that you had to seek me out in person? You could have just contacted me through your accursed eels, couldn't you?"

Ursula waved a hand dismissively. "Eel to parrot communication is so horribly dull, James. Besides, you're always keeping those damn parrots covered up."

Hook crossed his arms. "I suppose I'm not particularly fond of being spied on. Silly notion, I know," he added sarcastically.

Meanwhile, back in the cabin, Mia sat up in bed. She'd awoken when Hook rose from the bed, armed himself, and stepped out on deck. Worried, Mia tip-toed barefoot across the cabin, wearing one of Hook's shirts. It hung to her thighs. The perfect nightshirt, but still not something she wanted to go capering around in. So instead, she went to the door and peered out through the crack. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed to keep from screaming at what she saw.

On the deck of the Jolly Roger stood a writhing mass of tentacles gradually tapering upwards into the body of a woman. Despite the slight differences in appearance between the octo-woman's film counterpart and real life, Mia nonetheless recognized this person for who she was. Ursula, the Sea Witch. There was no mistake. What other half-woman, half-octopuses could there be?

Although she shared a sort of corpulence with her Disney animated counterpart, the real Ursula was not unattractive. She possessed a round but pretty face, and her eyes were like turquoise pools. Her hair was much longer, and more silver than white. It almost seemed to have a shimmery quality to it. And yet, for all her attractiveness up top, she was no less frightening to behold on the whole. And she had Hook wrapped in her tentacles!

Mia's hand tightened on the doorknob. She wasn't sure what she could do, but she must do something to save him! But she hesitated at the sound of their voices. Hook was speaking to Ursula as though she was not to be feared, but simply an uninvited and somewhat annoying guest. Ursula, however, seemed rather fond of him. Hook pushed one of her probing tentacles away from his face, but Ursula seemed unfazed as her tendrils slipped past his coat, sliding sinuously across his bare torso.

Hook had no knowledge of Mia's prying eyes. At the moment, there was no one more claiming of his attention than the Sea Witch. He could feel her slimy, sticky 'arms' caressing his bare skin, which incidentally felt like it wanted to crawl right off his bones. No, Ursula was hardly an unattractive face... but for Hook, that's where it ended. He tried his best to maintain a serious disposition, despite feeling rather sea-sick.

"Besides," said Ursula with a wistful sigh. "I really wanted to pay you a... _personal_... visit. After all, it's been _so_ long," she cooed, drawing him closer to her as she seductively trailed a long-nailed finger down his chest.

"Not quite long enough, I assure you," Hook replied stiffly.

Ursula frowned and withdrew her tentacles. "That's right," she said. "You always _did_ prefer my other form, didn't you, James?"

With a snap of her fingers, the Sea Witch transformed into a full-bodied woman with long, dark hair and an inky black dress with purple ruffles at the hem. Two long, sexy legs sprouted from below the dress, clad in a pair of black slippers. Once more, Mia found herself biting back a cry of surprise. She supposed she shouldn't be shocked by anything at this point. After all, this was not so unlike the form Ursula had taken in the Disney movie to seduce Prince Eric as a way to foil Ariel's attempts to win his love.

Mia could tell by the look on Hook's face and the sweep of his eyes over Ursula's new body that he very much appreciated this slinky, sexier form, though he remained stoic as though he didn't wish to give too much away.

"It is admittedly preferable," he said stiffly.

"Sadly, I'm unable to maintain this form for very long," Ursula sighed in a slightly different sounding voice. "Ever since my brother cursed me with this wretched body that revolts you so, I find that my powers of transformation are quite limited. But rest assured, when I have claimed my rightful place as Queen of Atlantica, I will have my true body back, and you will be unable to resist me." She linked her arms around his neck and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger.

Mia's hand tightened on the door handle, her teeth clenching.

"I don't doubt it," said Hook with a teasing smirk. "Though I don't suppose you're any closer to accomplishing your goals?"

Ursula scowled and stepped away from him. "Don't patronize me, James," she said in a voice which sounded more like the one which belonged to her cephalopodic form. "Besides... that day may be coming sooner than you think."

"What do you mean? Does this have anything to do with why you're here? For what purpose have you sought me out, so desperate that you would sink other ships and kill so many men just to find me?"

Ursula lifted an eyebrow. "You speak as though I've committed some sort of atrocity. Sinking ships, killing sailors... What's it to you? Have you developed such a weak constitution – you, Captain Hook, who would have a holocaust of children? The mistress would be _so_ displeased." She folded her arms and smiled a wicked smile. "It is on our Dark Mistress' business that I come to you. Have you not heard the latest bit of gossip?"

Hook opened his mouth to speak, but she swiftly cut him off.

"Of course not," she scoffed. "You're always the last to know these things, docked at that infernally shifting island of yours." Ursula leaned towards him and spoke conspiratorially. "A girl from the other side has come to Dizgaia."

Mia froze, suppressing a frightened gasp. Ursula was talking about her!

Hook's expression was one of surprise. "The other side? They've brought another one?"

"Yes," drawled Ursula with a knowing gleam in her eyes. "Not since Walter Elias Disney has such a thing happened."

Hook's eyes narrowed in a glare. "Ah yes... the man who made us look as fools through his preposterous children's films." He shook his head. Sir Walter Disney was not the subject at hand. "When did this happen? Do we know anything about this girl?"

Ursula let out a laugh. "Oh ho ho! Do we know anything about her? Oh, this is just too juicy!"

She took a seat on the edge of bulwarks, slinging her arm through the rigging. In this position, her dress rose up high on her hip, showing off a tantalizing amount of thigh which Hook's eyes were helplessly drawn to. If Ursula had probed and propositioned him in _this_ form to begin with, then...

Hook pushed that thought quickly from his mind. Regardless of her form, Ursula was _still_ Ursula. It didn't matter what form she took. And besides, he didn't need another woman. There was but one that held his interest. One currently tucked away in his cabin, one that would surely face this woman's wrath were she to know of their romance. Oh, he hoped that she still slept. Hook stepped to the side, trying to position himself in a way that would direct Ursula's attention away from the cabin.

"Do you remember that nasty bit of business between the Dark Mistress and Blair Mercurial, shortly after the birth of his daughter?"

Mia brought her fist to her mouth. _Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no..._

"How could I forget? It's the one event that set us back years. But what does that have to do with this?"

Ursula grinned. She always loved a juicy bit of gossip. "In that case, you may well remember the tragic story of how his wife left him to return to Earth, taking their infant daughter with her. Any of this ring a bell?"

Now Mia was chewing nervously on her knuckles. This was dangerous. She was in grave danger here! If only there was some way to stop it! But she didn't dare reveal herself. All she could do was stand and watch through the crack in the cabin door as the train wreck unfolded before her.

At first, Hook's face seemed to express befuddlement. But then, his expression changed as he pieced it together, his eyes widening in shock. "No... The daughter? Mercurial's spawn has come home, has she?"

"That's right!" Ursula cackled. "The Dreamfinder's own daughter has come home to roost. The Mistress and her top sorcerers have been watching her progress on the other side for many years now. Eighteen Earth years have gone by since she left. Daddy's little girl is all grown up now."

"Dash it all!" cursed Hook. "No one has kept me informed on anything of late! How did this happen? Has anyone seen her? Or does anyone know where she might be?"

Ursula shrugged. "Where else? Cerenopia. Some weeks ago now, the Dark Mistress sent her best hunter to Earth to collect her, but she evaded capture with the help of some buffoon from the Imagination Institute. He brought her here from the other side, and rumor has it that her spark is brighter than ever. The Dark Mistress wants her. She's put out the order to all her subordinates to find and capture Miandra Mercurial and bring her to Bald Mountain."

Mia felt the blood drain from her face. Her knees buckled and her body threatened to swoon on the spot. It was only by sheer will power alone that she stayed steady on her feet, but she was positively atremble.

Would Hook figure out that she was none other than the very girl of whom Ursula spoke? Would he piece it together? The names Miandra and Mia were similar. And Mia had told him she was from Cerenopia, just as Ursula had said. But surely many people could be from Cerenopia. And she'd given Hook the name of her adopted father; Baxter, her legal name. But would this be enough?

Hook's gaze began to drift away from Ursula as she spoke of the events surrounding Miandra Mercurial's return, making a mental note of the way Ursula described the girl. Cerenopia... Her spark brighter than ever... Eighteen Earth years...

However, it was the girl's name which began to stick with him like a fly to honey.

_Miandra... Miandra... Mi...a..._

Hook's eyes widened and his face grew ever so slightly paler. It was difficult for an observer to truly gauge Hook's expression, but for the slightest of moments, his eyes flicked towards the cabin. However, his gaze quickly returned to Ursula as he adopted a more stoic expression.

"So, we have a true mission then. Though, if the Dark Mistress wants her so badly, why hasn't anyone attempted to make a move toward Cerenopia? That's likely where she would be, correct?"

Ursula shook her head. "If it were only that simple, James. Cerenopia is heavily fortified these days. Ever since the attack on the Mercurial family several years ago, in fact. Protective enchantments have been placed around the kingdom. It would take great cunning, skill, and vast magical ability to attempt something of the sort."

"I'm well aware," said Hook. "I was merely pointing out what a lost cause it is to target the Dreamfinder's daughter, if she is safely tucked away within Cerenopia's borders."

"That's just it, James," said Ursula with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "We have something working in our favor." She leaned towards him again. "Rumor has it the Mercurial girl has gone missing from Cerenopia. The sister princesses have put out an official order for her rescue, wherever she may be. They've been trying to keep it hush-hush, no doubt so such news would not reach The Mistress. But something like that, the daughter of the Dreamfinder... it isn't easy to keep secret. It's become an international situation."

Hook arched an eyebrow as he considered this news. Mercurial's daughter... Gone missing? Or perhaps taken? Taken by someone who could easily bypass those magical boundaries? And now it explained the Rosebriaran naval ship he'd encountered and subsequently decimated. At the time, he'd found it very peculiar that they were beyond their normal range of travel. Now it occurred to him... They must have been searching for the girl!

"Of course," said Ursula, "No one knows exactly where she is. But if she's truly beyond Cerenopia's boundaries, then she's vulnerable. The Dark Mistress says the girl is terribly naïve about a lot of things in this world. All she knows is what's been presented to her as 'fairytales' on Earth through Disney's legacy. Otherwise, her knowledge of the true ways of this world is limited to whatever her father may have told her." Ursula's ruby red lips spread into a wicked grin. "She should be an easy capture."

Now Mia was positively whittling away at her knuckles. There was a warm, coppery taste in her mouth. She glanced down at her hand and realized her teeth had broken skin, drawing blood from her knuckles.

Hook closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking at Ursula once more. "That is certainly a factor that works to our advantage, Ursula, dear. Perhaps we may gain the upper hand yet..."

Mia waited with baited breath for his next words, certain they would be, 'For I have her in my cabin.'

"...once someone finds the girl, of course. And I shall certainly keep my eyes peeled."

Mia breathed a sigh of relief. But she wasn't entirely out of the woods yet. A dangerous amount of information had been shared. Hook may not have proof that she was Miandra Mercurial, but he also didn't have any proof that she _wasn't_. Either way, the conversation appeared to be wrapping up, and she mustn't be caught spying. Mia silently stepped away from the door and scurried across the room, throwing herself back into bed and doing her best to arrange the covers as close to the way they'd been before, and assuming her previous position.

Meanwhile, out on deck, Ursula hopped down from the bulwarks. "See that you do, James. You may be the last to know these things, but don't allow that to be an excuse for disappointing Maleficent." The human Ursula trailed a long, dainty finger down the side of his cheek. "After all, I'd hate for anything terrible to befall you."

Hook's eyes narrowed. He needn't be reminded of the consequences of such a failure. Oftentimes, he wondered if the fact he was so often out of the loop and forgotten was the one thing keeping him safe from Maleficent's wrath for not yet having conquered Neverland after all this time.

Ursula wrapped her arms around him once more. Before Hook could say or do anything to dissuade her, she pressed her lips firmly against his. Hook's eyes were wide, shocked by this most recent brazen behavior. But... at least she was in her human form. And, really, when in this form, Ursula was single-handedly one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on. He was willing to bet that her during her days as a mermaid, before King Triton punished her for her crimes and vanity with an accursed appearance, she was just as lovely. Maybe even more so.

Whether it was simply because he was a man and she a beautiful woman, or whether, perhaps, it was a bit of witchcraft or her natural powers of seduction at work, Hook found himself helpless to resist her advances. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her more firmly against him as his lips crashed hungrily against hers in return. It was the sweetest, most succulent kiss he'd shared with a woman. He couldn't help succumbing to it... at least until he felt those creeping appendages climbing up along his body.

Hook's eyes snapped open as he tore his lips away from hers, spitting and sputtering from the salty kiss that she'd laid on him. He glared furiously at her.

"Brimstone and gall! Blast you, witch!"

The Sea Witch, in all her tentacled glory, released him with a mischievous smile. "So long, lover boy!" she called in a husky cackle. With that, she bounded over the bulwarks and disappeared into the murky black depths below.

Hook grit his teeth and spat one last time before wiping his mouth for good measure. With a deep breath, he returned to his cabin.

Mia heard the door creak open. He was back. She tried to regulate her breathing, doing her best to feign sleep. With her back to him, all she could detect was the sound of him discarding his weapons and the thumping of his clothes and boots to the floor, followed by the clunk of his hook being set on the bedside table. That had to be a good sign, right? If he thought she was the one they were looking for, surely he'd use them against her now. Nonetheless, it took all Mia's strength to keep from trembling as he climbed back into bed beside her, slinging his abbreviated arm over her body. It was then she noticed something on his person that she'd never noticed before.

On his remaining forearm just above where it ended was a scar. No, not a scar. A brand. A brand shaped like the letter 'M.' It seemed even before tangling with Peter Pan, this arm was destined to be marred. For a moment, she starred at the brand before she realized she was holding her breath. Mia quickly resumed her regular breathing, hoping he hadn't noticed.

Did Hook think she might be the one? Did it cross his mind at all? And if he knew she was Miandra Mercurial, the Dreamfinder's daughter, would he truly act on it? After all they'd been through together and what they meant to one another, might he not protect her rather than hand her over?

Mia hoped the answer was yes, but that brand on his arm was an all-too familiar reminder of who he served. Not to mention, even if he was ignorant as to who Mia was, with the sort of people he allied himself with, it may only be a matter of time before Ursula or someone else discovered her and revealed to him exactly who she was before whisking her away to Maleficent.

She recalled Ursula's words on deck.

_The Dark Mistress wants her. She's put out the order to all her subordinates to find and capture Miandra Mercurial and bring her to Bald Mountain._

This time, Mia could not help the tremors which seized her body, and all she could do to protect herself from suspicion was to try to pass it off as a nightmare.

Hook laid beside Mia, keeping her bound to him with his stunted appendage. He didn't say a word. He did nothing. He just seemed to go back to sleep without any sign that he was troubled. But what Mia couldn't see was that his eyes remained opened for quite a long time. Occasionally, he'd gaze down at her. Other times, he simply gazed past her. When her tremors began, he pulled her into a more secure embrace, one which seemed to offer the warmest, sweetest protection.

Hook knew not what caused her tremors. Perhaps a chill of the night air cutting in when he'd opened the door. Perhaps another unpleasant dream. Either way, he held her in his arms, letting her know he was there.

Mia let out a sigh of relief. If Hook suspected her of being the Dreamfinder's daughter, surely he would not embrace her so protectively. Feeling reassured, Mia rolled over and snuggled closer to him. Convinced of her safety, she allowed sleep to claim her once more.


	41. The Jig is Up

When next Mia awoke, early morning sunlight was streaming in through the cabin windows and Hook was donning his outer vestments. Mia laid quietly in bed for a moment, just gazing appreciatively at him. But then the events of last night came crashing down on her like a tidal wave, and suddenly she was plagued with fears and doubts. Mia pulled the coverlet up to her face, hiding all but her eyes, hoping to conceal her worried expression, which she feared may be a give-away.

"Good morning," she said softly, hoping that Hook would interpret her current position as an act of bashfulness after their night together.

Hook turned his gaze over his shoulder. "Why, good morning, my dear lady. Up so soon, are you?"

If he knew there was anything amiss about her, if he suspected her of anything, he certainly wasn't letting on. Mia lowered the coverlet and returned his smile. Perhaps all was well after all.

"Did you sleep well, dear? There was bit of commotion during the night, but it didn't turn out to be anything of consequence. I do hope it didn't disturb you."

Mia shook her head, trying not to let her face betray her emotions. "No, I didn't hear anything," she lied. Then, venturing on simply because she thought it'd be suspicious if she didn't inquire, she asked, "Was... _is_ everything all right?"

Hook arched an eyebrow. "Of course, dear. Everything is right as rain. Why should anything be the matter?"

Mia wasn't so sure about that, but at least he wasn't acting much differently, which for her served as evidence that he must not suspect her of being the elusive Dreamfinder's daughter.

Fully dressed, Hook approached, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and smiling at her. "We're continuing on our course to Kuala's Hideaway," he said, gently caressing her hair.

That was another good sign. If he suspected her for who she truly was, no doubt they'd change course for... What had Ursula said? Bald Mountain. Mia suppressed a shiver.

"I'm not expecting to run into any difficulties, but as usual, we'll be on our guard. You may, of course, do what you wish. If there are any complications, I'll certainly inform you, dearest." He kissed her sweetly on the mouth, then rose from the bed. "I expect to see your skills put to wondrous use today."

"Of course," said Mia with a smile.

With that, Hook left the cabin to fulfill his duties as captain.

A short while later, Mia stepped out on deck, armed with her notebook and sketchpad. It was a cooler day. A light sea breeze ruffled her hair. She inhaled deeply and took a seat on an empty barrel on deck. She tried several times to do a sketch, but it just wasn't coming. Her mind was a cistern of turbulent emotions.

Hook may not suspect her for the girl Ursula had spoken of, but that didn't mean Mia was out of danger. So long as she was with Hook, she risked being discovered by the Dark Ones. Therefore, she must be on her guard until they arrived at Kuala's Hideaway, at which time they could hopefully secure her safe passage back to Cerenopia. There was no room for slip-ups. It was imperative she remain calm and reveal nothing.

This, however, was already proving difficult as she continuously shifted in her seat, feeling the effects of her nervousness. She hoped she didn't look as antsy and out of sorts as she felt. However, salvation came in the form of three pirates – Alf Mason, whose life she'd saved by showing him mercy, Cecco, and a man named Mullins, the ship's carpenter and tattooist.

"Good mornin', Miss Baxter,' said Alf Mason with a kind but nervous smile. "We was, uh, wonderin' if'n ye might be inclined to put your skill to our skin."

Mia furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry?"

"That is ta say," said Cecco, "We was hopin' maybe ye'd be so kind as to ink us."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You mean a tattoo?"

The pirates nodded, grinning crooked smiles.

"Um, well, I would, but you see, I've never actually tattooed anyone before. I wouldn't know how."

"I can shows yeh," offered Mullins. "I can teach yeh all yeh need to know."

Oh. I... I see. But wouldn't you be the better man for the job?"

Mullins shook his head. "Me skills as an artist is nothin' compared to yours, Miss. We'd be honored if ye'd mark our skin with your beautiful work."

Mia chewed her lower lip. Tattooing... The very idea made her squeamish, but she hated to disappointed them. "All right," she said slowly. "If you show me how, I'll do my best. But are you absolutely sure? I mean, they _are_ permanent. What if I mess up?"

But this seemed to be the least of the pirates' worries, as they told her to draw anything she wanted, and insisted that any mistake she made would still be treasured by them, as it would have come from her hand. Mia blushed. She'd certainly made the unlikeliest of friends here, and despite being rough around the edges, Mia couldn't help but hold a sort of fondness for them.

"Well, all right," she said. "But are you sure you don't have a specific request or anything?"

Alf Mason blushed. "Well, if'n I was ta be honest, I'd want your lovely visage on me arm, Miss. But ye mustn't indulge me with that. T'wouldn't be proper, you bein' the captain's woman and all."

Mia was simultaneously flattered and embarrassed by his words, but her heart trilled happily at the acknowledgement of her as the captain's woman. Hearing someone else say it seemed to confirm it for her. Miandra Mercurial, the Dark Ones' Most Wanted or not, she was the captain's woman, and Hook would surely not relinquish what was his.

Her previous fears pushed aside, Mia indulged her scallywag admirers and put her skills to use, as the captain had requested, whilst learning a new one as well. She began with a mermaid on Mullins' bicep, as he carefully instructed her on how to properly use the tools of the trade. Then, for Cecco, she did a seagull flying across the setting sun, just over his right pectoral.

For Alf Mason, she compromised, and instead of a self-portrait, she simply wrote her name across the inside of his forearm with – at his request – the words, 'Never forget.' He told her he wanted always to remember the time she'd shown him mercy and saved his life, so that, pirate or no, he would forever treat the fairer sex with chivalry and respect... in her honor. Mia was moved to tears, and when she looked at Alf Mason, she could see his eyes swimming with emotion as well.

~~~

Hook spent most of the morning at the helm, guiding the ship onward to Kuala's Hideaway as he said he would. Every so often, he glanced in Mia's direction to see just how she was occupying herself. With furrowed brow, he watched as she took a crash course in tattooing. Not a very ladylike endeavor, and certainly a step below her canvass and paints, but it was just as well. A distraction of that caliber would give him the time he needed to look into a matter of utmost concern. Relinquishing the helm to Mr. Starkey, Hook returned to his cabin with the goal of putting his suspicions to rest.

He closed the cabin door and locked it behind him, ensuring that no one else could enter and disturb him. He found Mia's backpack and took it to his charting table. Slowly, he unzipped it. Then, he hesitated.

If he found any evidence to prove his suspicions true, it would mean that everything the two of them had, everything they had shared, all of their time together... it would all be at an end. Hook didn't want that. He dreaded it more than anything. And yet, if his suspicions were true, it was inevitable that she'd be found out anyway. He couldn't keep her from Maleficent. If he tried... his life would be forfeit. He knew that. There was simply nothing to be done. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, his hand took the plunge into her bag.

The contents within were not entirely unexpected. More sketchbooks and notebooks, pens, pencils, a box of charcoal, even a mobile telecommunication device similar to that which folks in the bigger cities of Dizgaia used. But there was something more. A wallet. Perhaps this was where her secrets lie.

Opening it, he found green, crinkled paper with pictures of strange old men. There were numbers printed on them. Some kind of currency, perhaps? But none that he was familiar with. And what was this? A small paper card which said, "Social Security" with a jumble of numbers that meant nothing to him. A second card. This one plastic with the word "Visa." He didn't know who or what Visa was. He'd never seen anything like this before. Hook shook his head. This was looking very bad.

Then came the last card.

A card that had her picture on it.

This card was the giveaway. It had all her information on it. Her date of birth; a date which meant nothing to him, as he'd never seen dates written in such a way; and her residency, a place called Wisconsin. That was a mouthful, and certainly nowhere he'd ever heard of on Dizgaia. But it was the name, the full name, that was the last straw. Although the name, 'Mercurial' was nowhere to be found, her first name drove a dagger into the heart of it all.

Miandra.

It was obvious. Mia was short for Miandra.

Of course it was.

Hook hung his head, his long raven hair falling into his face as he drew a ragged breath. He'd come in here hoping to alleviate his suspicions, but instead he'd confirmed them. Mia had been the Dreamfinder's daughter all along. He clenched his teeth in anger. There was no way around it. He now knew what he had to do, what needed to be done. And he hated it with every fiber of his being.

The distressed captain slammed his hook on the table, peeling the wood as he dragged it through, and buried his face in his hand. "Such a bloody waste..."

~~~

By late afternoon, a third of the crew was freshly tattooed and Mia was tired. The day had grown hotter, so she decided to retire to the cabin for the evening. Skipping merrily up to the quarterdeck, Mia paused at the helm to deliver a swift kiss to Hook's cheek.

"You look tired," she said. "You should rest." Then, with a dazzling smile that broke his heart, she went cheerfully into the cabin. Mia had all but forgotten her predicament because, in fact, there seemed to be no sign of a predicament.

Hook waited until nightfall to relinquish the helm once more and return to his cabin. He'd been dreading this moment all day, but now it was time to face the music. He found Mia lazing on the chaise lounge once more, comfortably dressed in her chemise and contentedly drawing in her sketchbook. It could have been any other night with how routine it was; the two of them engaged in their own personal endeavors, not speaking much, but simply enjoying one another's quiet presence. Then, perhaps a showing of her art, dinner for two, reading together by lamplight, and then bed. But Hook did not see this night following along that same trajectory.

Mia glanced up as he entered. "Good evening, James," she said sweetly.

Taking a deep breath, Hook returned her smile. "I'm glad to see you're keeping so busy, dear. It does me good to see that your... passion... isn't going to waste."

Oh, this was painful. And it was only going to get worse.

He removed his effects, took off his coat, and unbuttoned his shirt before taking a seat at the harpsichord. As Mia drew, the captain began to play.

"Mmm," Mia murmured as she continued to sketch out a rather intricate mandala. "That sounds pretty. It's been a while since you played, Captain— er, I mean... James." She glanced at him, blushing, before rummaging around for her pastels.

Hook was glad Mia was distracted because his smile was noticeably forced. He hesitated before reaching for a small lever on the harpsichord just above the upper manual. He hated to do this, but it was necessary for what needed to be done. He pulled the lever, engaging the harpsichord's enchantment properties.

_Damn you, Maleficent,_ he thought. _And damn me to the pits of hell for being your servant._

He began to play a haunting, but nonetheless pretty tune as Mia worked diligently on the chaise lounge. The soothing music and relaxing atmosphere combined with the cathartic coloring of her mandala eased Mia into a state of semi-coherent tranquility. Entranced by the hypnotic allure of the magically enhanced harpsichord, Mia never noticed the green mist rising from the Venetian swell.

Hook briefly considered what alternate options he might have available to him. He could just give Mia a boat and let her go... most likely to be caught in Ursula's awaiting tentacles. He could simply protect her and refuse to give her up... which would result in Maleficent cursing him or straight-up killing him and his crew. And death was the easy way out. He knew very well that Maleficent would have far worse in store for him than the merciful punishment of death.

There was no other alternative. He had to do what needed done.

Mia was deep into her work, and yet the melody he played on the harpsichord almost seemed to have a strange effect on her. She was feeling sleepy, yet not sleepy at the same time. If she didn't know any better, she'd think perhaps Hook was lulling her into some sort of trance. But that was a silly notion. He was a pirate. Not a sorcerer. So, despite her strange sleepiness, she continued to work contentedly.

As Hook played, he spoke to the girl, testing her level of coherency. "I'm pleased that you're working so diligently. The crew certainly seemed to appreciate your talents today."

"Mmm," replied Mia somewhat distractedly. "They're sweet when they want to be."

Hook continued to play. It seemed the seductive enchantment of his harpsichord was effective. She'd answered automatically, honestly, and unthinkingly. Perhaps it was time for another test question before he dropped the big bomb, so to speak.

But the question he intended to ask simply went astray as a different one fled his mouth before he could stop it. It was an honest question in his own right, and he immediately regretted asking it, as he knew her response would only result in his own misery.

"Mia... Do you care for me?"

He winced, and yet his fingers didn't cease. They, along with his hook, continued to tickle the ivories, perhaps even more intently now, as he awaited her response.

Mia didn't think anything of his sudden question. She simply continued her work, enjoying the sound of the harpsichord and the simple pleasure of a fellow artist's company as she obediently answered all his questions.

"Of course I do, James. I care about you a lot. You've encouraged me so much. No one has ever been able to bring me out of my shell the way you have. I'm forever grateful to you." She paused briefly in her coloring, not looking at him, but gazing off into the distance as though coming to some sort of epiphany. "In fact, you may be one of the dearest friends I've ever had." Chewing her lip bashfully, she returned to her work. "Well, perhaps more than _just_ a friend," she added, her voice bubbling with feminine giggles.

She might as well have taken his own steel appendage and plunged it into his chest, for her response to his question hurt him just as much. Why oh why had he asked that question? It only made what he had to do all the more difficult. And yet, despite his own misery, Hook played on. It was time to deliver the final blow.

The harpsichord began to drop into the lower tones as Hook played specifically at the left side of the keyboard. His eyes narrowed as he hung his head, allowing the curtains of his hair to hide his face.

"Oh, and do tell me, my dear _Miandra..._ Just how _is_... Wisconsin... this time of year?"

And there it was. The coup de grace of the whole lot. A question that, entranced and distracted, Mia had no choice but to answer.

Mia was so deep in her work, so soothed by the tones of the harpsichord, that she didn't think twice about answering his last question. In fact, not a single thing seemed amiss with it. Not even the use of her full first name.

"That's hard to say," she replied entrancedly. "I'm not really sure what the exact time difference between Earth and Dizgaia is, so I can only guess what time of year it is there. But when I left, it was mid-Autumn, so maybe it's wintertime now. Not sure. But it's usually pretty cold in the winter. It was much nicer in Florida."

Suddenly, the music stopped with a loud, discordant sound as Hook slammed his hand and hook on the keys. The noise was so jarring that it startled Mia out of her seat, sending her sketchbook tumbling to the floor. And then, she realized what he'd asked and how she'd just answered. He called her Miandra. He asked about Wisconsin. And she... she responded affirmatively to both!

The pencil snapped in Mia's hand. Both halves joined the sketchbook on the floor. Her face paled as she gazed wide-eyed and horrorstruck at Hook.

"I-I mean..." Her words trailed off into a soft, mournful whimper.

It was all over.

Hook rose to his feet, glaring at the girl. His hair hung like black curtains on either side of his handsome, yet suddenly terrifying face.

"So... it _is_ true. You _are_ the one Ursula was looking for. Mia... Miandra... Miandra _Mercurial!_ "

_Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no..._

As his gaze fell upon her, his eyes, which were normally a beautiful forget-me-not blue, almost seemed to rage red as he brandished his hook in a threatening manner. "The long-lost daughter of the Dreamfinder right here under my nose this whole time. How? How could I have been so blind? So foolish not to see all this time?"

Mia, herself, wondered how _she_ could've been so foolish as to thoughtlessly answer his question about Wisconsin. It was as though she'd been under some sort of trance. And now... now it was all over for her.

She staggered backwards, gripping the chaise lounge for support. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but all that escaped was a choked sob. Mia swallowed it back down, trying not to appear frightened. But in truth, this was the most frightened of him she'd been since he first abducted her from the forests of Neverland, which seemed so long ago now.

Funnily, and perhaps stupidly, the only thing she could think of to say in this moment was, "M-My last name really _is_ Baxter. I'm a-adopted."

Hook's eyes narrowed as he stalked slowly towards her. "Yes... Yes, I'm sure you are. When your mother stole away with you to the other side, no doubt she got hitched to a man named Baxter... Your 'father,' as it were." His teeth gnashed dangerously as he drew closer still. "But your _birth father_... There's no doubt about it. Your birth father is Blair Mercurial. And it's _so_ nice of you to have come home at long last."

"I-I didn't exactly have a choice," she stammered, wondering why she was even bothering to carry on a conversation. Perhaps because she thought it might help her stall for time until she could figure out an escape.

But escape where? And how?

Hook drew ever closer, his proximity becoming quite dangerous. This was the end. It was all over for her. She and Captain Hook were now enemies. All because Hook was the villain and she the good guy's daughter. Their destinies had been carved out for them.

Mia continued to back away, though there was nowhere to hide in his cabin, so she merely circled it, never once daring to put her back to him. But when she misplaced her foot, she went tumbling backwards, landing on her bottom. Hook stalked towards her. Mia scrambled backwards, crab-walking away from him until she found a wall and slowly slid up it into a standing position. But now she had nowhere to go. She was trapped.

Tears came to her eyes as she pleaded with him. "P-Please... don't... don't kill me."

At that moment, there came a change in Hook's expression. Despite the rather volatile situation in which they found themselves, his expression reflected a strange mix of emotions. Surely, there was anger there. But there was so much more. Was that sorrow? A hint of regret?

"Kill you?" he said softly, looking hurt that she would even suspect him of such. "I wouldn't dare. I'd just as soon burn every book, deface every painting, before I took your life, Miandra."

"Th-Then you're not going to—"

"Your fate... isn't in my hand." Hook's gaze lowered shamefully. "It seems I am to take you to Maleficent as soon as possible. I've already changed course for The Dark Continent."

The color drained from Mia's face. Suddenly, she was a child again, watching _Sleeping Beauty_ and cowering, wide-eyed, at the sight of the wicked fairy with her devilish horns and yellow eyes. She was a little girl again, lying in bed with her Mickey Mouse nightlight aglow, telling her father she was scared of dragons – one sinister dragon in particular.

"No!" she cried. "Oh God! P-Please! Don't take me there! I'll do anything! Just don't take me to M-Mal-Mal-Mal..."

Now she sounded like Dr. Channing, only her stammering was a result of sudden hyperventilation. Mia turned away from Hook and bent over at the waist, placing her hand against the wall for stability as she clutched at her chest.

"I-I c-can't breathe."

Hook took her firmly by the shoulders and steadied her. Despite the way he'd been behaving previously, he was gentle with her now. He brought his hand to the side of her face. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck and his thumb caressed her cheek as though seeking to offer comfort.

"The choice is not mine to make," he said mournfully. "I _must_ sail for The Dark Continent or a disastrous fate will await us all. And that is _not_ a fate I can accept. If Maleficent wants you, Miss Mercurial... I am bound to fulfill her desire."

Those last words were like an ice prick to her heart. The way he said it, he may as well be in love with the damned witch! Mia pushed his hand away from her.

"You aren't bound to do anything!" she shouted, tears in her eyes. "You're your own man! You're afraid of what Maleficent will do to you? So what? She doesn't have to know you have me! Just let me go! Take me back to Cerenopia or give me a dinghy and point me in the right direction! Everyone has a choice!"

"I DO NOT!" He clenched his teeth, breathing heavily, his eyes wild and angry. His tone lowered once more. "I do not have a choice. The sea has eyes, Mia. Ursula will find you if I release you. And you know I _cannot_ take you to Cerenopia myself."

"What about your promise?" she cried. "You promised you'd find me a way home!"

"If you recall, that promise came with the caveat that it would take _time!_ Time which we no longer have! I cannot keep you a secret long enough to arrange for you safe passage to Cerenopia."

"But if you—"

"Maleficent's eyes and ears are everywhere, Mia! In fact, it is very likely she already knows I have you. She may be bearing witness to this conversation as we speak!"

"But how? How is that even possible?"

But Hook did not answer her question. "Furthermore," he said, "It was a promise I made before I realized who you truly were."

Mia's eyes stung with fresh tears. "S-So now that I'm no longer Mia Baxter to you... Now that I'm Miandra Mercurial... everything we had... it meant nothing? You... you hate me now?"

"Of course not," he said earnestly, placing his hand against her cheek. "I do _not_ hate you, Miandra! Far from it!" He caressed her cheek as he rested his forehead against hers. "I still care about you, dear. I care about you very much. And so..." His voice dropped to a more sinister tone as he gazed determinedly into her eyes. "If anyone is to take you down the path of darkness... _I_ will do it."

Mia pushed him away from her. "I will NOT turn!" she shouted, suddenly feeling very much like Luke Skywalker. How long had it been since she regaled the Lost Boys with the story of Star Wars? It felt so long ago now. "I will NOT go down that path! Never!"

Hook's gaze darkened. "You don't know what power Maleficent wields."

Mia let out a sardonic laugh that ended in a choked sob. "Trust me, I think I have an idea."

"I cannot... I _will not_... defy her," he said.

Mia turned away from him, tears rolling down her cheeks. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, this fairytale romance. "I'm supposed to live happily ever after," she murmured more to herself than to him as she staggered dazedly across the room. She came to the map table, her trembling arms gripping the edge to keep her knees from buckling beneath her. "You're supposed to rather die than let me be taken to my doom. You were supposed to turn good!"

Hook's brow furrowed at her words. "Rather die... Turn good? Mia..." He shook his head in exasperation and spoke sternly to her. "Miandra, this is _not_ one of your stories. This is _not_ a fairytale. Things don't just happen because they're supposed to!"

He stalked towards her. Mia moved around to the other side of the table, keeping the piece of furniture between them at all times, at all costs. But still he came, circling the table towards her.

"Through all of this, do you truly not know who I am? I am James Hook! Pirate captain of the Jolly Roger! I am the naval force commander for the Dark Armies of Chernabog! Would-be conqueror of Neverland, if I have my way! Killer of natives, children, fairies, and other pirates who stand in my way!" His eyes narrowed as he spoke in a low, deadly tone. "I am what those of the Allied Kingdoms would call... a _Dark One_. And NOTHING..." His eyes found Mia's, and she could see the slightest hint of sorrow in them. "... and NO ONE will change that."

Mia lowered her head, her long hair falling around her face. She was quiet for a long time, in which the only sound was that of her tears plipping softly onto his charts.

"So that's it then," she said finally. "You play your role and I play mine. Villain and damsel. Nothing more, nothing less. Never rising above what we could be." She lifted her head and her voice rose to a crescendo. "Well, I will NOT be a damsel! I will NOT let you take me to The Dark Continent! I will fight you tooth and nail, if I have to!"

Then, with a scream filled more with fear than rage, she picked up a chair and threw it across the room at him. It whizzed past him, striking the wall behind him, two of its legs breaking on impact.

"Mia!"

Mia was almost surprised by her own strength. Adrenaline coursing through her, she picked up a second one, but her throw went wide. Her arms were trembling with fear and strain.

"Mia, stop this nonsense!"

Her eyes darted about the cabin, searching for a weapon. She spotted a dagger pinning one of his maps to the table. She seized it and held it out in front of her, arms shaking.

Hook had no desire to draw his sword against her. In fact, he refused. Instead, he simply raised his hook in defense.

"Mia... Despite everything, I don't wish to hurt you! Now stop this!"

Mia's eyes were wide and her hair tousled. She was like a wild, frightened animal. "And you think Maleficent will extend me that same courtesy? Have you even considered what you're taking me to? I may not die by _your_ hand, but I could die by someone else's! Or I could have a fate worse than death! You're _not_ taking me there! I won't let you! I told you I'd fight you if I have to. I will _not_ yield and accept some terrible fate at the hands of the evilest of evils! Forget it!"

Hook approached her slowly. Mia took a step back but held her ground.

"Mia, you have to understand... I don't want any of this! I don't want it to be this way. I want... I want so very much for things to be as they were before. You and I together like we have been. It's been so, _so_ long since I've spent time with someone like you." His eyes shimmered with an emotion Mia dared not believe – pain. "All I wanted was a beautiful young woman who could be my equal in conversation and creativity. But fate doesn't wish it for me. Because the very girl that I have longed for... is the long-lost daughter of our enemy."

"But that's not my fault!" she cried. "I have no control over who my father is!"

"Even if I had the choice to keep you from Maleficent, your father would stand in my way. He would never let me have you. One way or another, what we had... it cannot be."

Mia lowered her gaze. She'd never really thought about it that way, but it was true. Blair Mercurial, the Dreamfinder – her father – would never allow such a relationship. She supposed she hadn't considered it simply because she didn't want to consider it.

"B-But if you were to turn over a new leaf, offer to join our side as a privateer, I'm sure that'd be a different stor—"

She never had the chance to finish, as Hook used her momentary distraction as an opportunity to move faster than she thought possible. He swiped the dagger from her hand with his hook. Mia gasped as it clattered to the floor.

"Resistance, Miandra, is ever so pointless," he said with a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Your fate will be the same, one way or the other."

Frightened, Mia backed away from him. Hook continued to stalk towards her, but the rage in his eyes had long since left. His look was intense, but still sorrowful.

"Mia," he said, his expression softening to a frown. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Maleficent will stop at nothing until you are brought to her. Even if that means she has to send every last one of us to find you. I wish it didn't have to be this way... but I've never had a single wish of mine ever come true. _That,_ Mia, is your proof that this is not a fairy tale."

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but Mia ignored them, forcing them back down to wherever it was tears came from. "I don't care if the hounds of hell come after me! I'm not going to just sit idly by and allow it to happen!" She leapt over the chaise lounge and turned it over in his path. "Stay away from me! Just stay away!" Her eyes darted around for another weapon, but she found none. "Maleficent tried to kill me when I was a baby! Knowing that, how can you possibly turn me over to her?"

Hook continued to advance, but slowly. He didn't wish to hurt her, and yet she was intent to fight tooth and nail. But that was a fight he didn't wish to have. He didn't want her to force his hand. And yet...

"You're... you're nothing but a c-cowardly codfish!" No sooner had she said it, Mia clamped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what she'd just said.

_Uh oh._

For a moment, Hook froze in place, as though stunned by her words. He looked as though she'd slapped him. Then, his eyes changed as he became rage personified.

"Coward? CODFISH!?"

Before he knew what he was doing, Hook swung with his steel appendage, dragging it across the back of the overturned chaise lounge, exposing its cottony innards as though to demonstrate what he'd do to anyone who dared call him that name.

"You have... the GALL... to call ME... a cowardly codfish!?"

"I-I'm sorry!" Mia cried. "It... It just slipped out!"

He had no control over his rage as he slashed at the chaise lounge, again and again, until the piece of furniture was in tatters. Mia screamed and tumbled backwards, landing on her back on the floor. Hook pushed through what remained of the lounge and towered over her, his red gaze burning furiously into hers. Fear and panic consumed the girl, which should have doused his fire, but all Hook could see was red. He snarled as he held his hook aloft as though preparing to strike.

_I need a weapon,_ thought Mia. _I need something! Please! If only I had a—_

Suddenly, with a pop and a fizzle, an object materialized into her hands. A flintlock. It was the one thing that snapped Hook out of his rage. He hesitated, his eyes losing their fury and instead widening in shock.

"W-What? You just... How did you...?"

Mia was just as shocked as Hook as she gazed at the weapon in her hand. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before she gathered her wits enough to point the thing at him.

"S-Stay back! D-Don't come any closer!"

Holding the gun in both hands, Mia staggered to her feet. She swayed dizzily for a moment, but quickly regained equilibrium as she held him at gunpoint.

"Step away!" she ordered.

Hook backed up ever so slightly. "You really _are_ his daughter," he murmured.

Mia's eyes continuously flicked between Hook and the gun in her hands. She was still in shock over it. Even Hook's comment about her being the Dreamfinder's daughter didn't make it any less fantastic to her. Fearing it might disappear, she gripped it tighter to ensure that it stayed real. She kept it pointed at Hook with trembling hands.

"T-Tell your m-men to change course," she ordered him.

_And then what?_

She hadn't thought this far ahead.

"F-For Cerenopia."

Again, that small voice in her head challenged her. _And then what?_

Mia did her best to ignore it.

"Well, are you or aren't you?" she asked when he didn't make a move.

For a moment, Hook's eyes lingered on the weapon in her hands. Then, his gaze moved to her face, as though studying it. Finally, he replied, "No, Mia. We will not be doing that. The Jolly Roger will remain on its present course."

Mia gaped at him. If the situation wasn't so dire and depressing, it might have been comical.

"B-But I—"

Once more, Hook started towards her and Mia began to back away, utterly perplexed. Then, realization dawned on her.

_The hammer! Throw back the hammer, you idiot!_

Clumsily, Mia fumbled for the hammer, finally managing to throw it back. "Th-There!" she said, pointing the gun at him once more, this time properly cocked and ready to shoot. "Don't make me use this! I will _not_ be taken to Maleficent! If I have to, I'll... I'll kill you. I can do it, too! You know I can! You saw me shoot that pirate in the pub! I didn't have to miss. I could've killed him if I wanted to!"

Hook came to a halt, deliberating.

"No," he repeated.

That one little word shattered her confidence.

_No? Why no?_

How could he still refuse to back down when he had a loaded gun pointed at him? But it was what he said next that rocked her to the core.

"I'm afraid I cannot give into your demands, Miandra. If you want this ship to change course to Cerenopia, you are simply going to have to go through with it; kill me and commandeer this vessel."

Mia's eyes went wide. Kill him? She'd only been bluffing. She had hoped that the threat alone would be enough to make him change course. But he wasn't backing down. The only way, as Hook himself attested, was to kill him. But could she?

If she killed the captain, what would the crew do? But then, hadn't she won their favor already? If she killed Hook and gave them a good explanation, might the men not follow her? She'd almost become friends with some of them.

There was a chance she could do it; order the crew to take her to Cerenopia with promises of a royal pardon if they obeyed. She was certain Cindy could arrange such a thing. Besides, wouldn't the crew rather be captained by a young woman offering them freedom than captained by the terrifying Captain Hook who could lose his temper and cast anchor in them at any moment?

Yes, Mia was certain this could work.

If she could kill Hook.

Mia swallowed the lump in her throat and did her best to push back the encroaching feelings which desperately wanted to sabotage her. "Exactly. That's the idea, Captain."

Despite the steadiness in her voice, her hands were positively atremble. Her expression became grim and determined, if not sickly. She aimed the gun at his chest, right where his heart would be. Her finger twitched. Her arms began to tremble even more. Did she really want to do this?

Sensing her internal turmoil, Hook spoke gently to her. "It's the only way, Mia. And I won't even stop you. I cannot defy Maleficent's order... but I certainly can't uphold it if I am dead." Then, in a sterner tone, "Now steady your hands. You won't kill anyone like that."

Tears welled in Mia's eyes as she did her best to steady the gun.

"Don't cry, Miandra," he gently advised. "It will blur your vision and increase your risk of missing your shot."

How could he speak so calmly? How?

"Pull the trigger, Mia," he said almost tenderly, wearing a sorrowful but determined expression. "Gain your freedom. I promise I will have no regrets."

Mia's mouth wrenched in an agonized twist. She wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand, only for more to swiftly take their place. She held the gun, steadying it. But still, she could not shoot.

_Shoot him! Just shoot him, Mia! It's your life or his! If you don't, he'll take you to Maleficent!_

Mia shook her head as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I thought you cared about me," she said tremulously. Then, shouting, "I THOUGHT YOU CARED ABOUT ME! But all I am to you, all I was... was just a victory over Peter Pan."

This hurt him more than the bullet that he anticipated would soon embed itself in his chest and end his life. Mia could say what she wanted, but she couldn't be more off the mark. And yet, Hook remained silent, just waiting for the inevitable. It would be easier for her to kill him if he didn't tell her the truth... of how he truly felt about her, and why it destroyed him inside to have to deliver her to her doom, and therefore why he was so willing to die by her hand.

Hook closed his eyes. _Do it, Mia,_ he thought. _Hurry and be done with it, darling. I know you can do it. Kill me. It is the only way._

But Mia wasn't done with her heart-wrenching tirade.

"And I... I was foolish enough... foolish enough to fall in love with you!"

Hook's eyes snapped open at her words. She'd fallen... in love? With _him_? Why, oh why did she have to actually _love_ him? As if his life wasn't painful enough!

"You're taking me to the damn witch who tried to kill me when I was a baby! You're leading me straight to my doom! I'll never see my friends and family again! I may be killed or something even worse! And yet I-I can't..."

Mia trailed off, but what she had intended to say was clear. She dropped the gun. It fizzled out of existence as it hit the floor. Her love for him had prevented her from finishing him off. It had been her one chance... and she couldn't do it. Mia fell to her knees and sobbed.

Until now, Mia had thought that to be heartbroken was merely an expression of emotion. But now she realized it very much described the physical feeling that accompanied such sorrow. It hurt. It hurt so bad she wished it would just stop beating altogether.

Hook's pitying gaze stayed on the girl as he lowered to his knees in front of her. He didn't know what to say. He had nothing. Nothing except two small words, spoken softly.

"I'm sorry."

Mia looked at him with a gaze which held feelings of hurt, betrayal, sorrow, and anger. "How are you any better than Peter?" she demanded. "He forgot me! But you... you _betrayed_ me! I dared to love you, and now you're taking me to the most dangerous person in all of Dizgaia!"

Hook lowered his gaze. Why couldn't she understand? It wasn't that he _wanted_ to take her to Maleficent! He simply didn't have a choice in the matter!

"I wish _you'd_ just forgotten me!"

Hook gazed at her once more, his expression suddenly unfathomable. But his next words were spoken earnestly.

"Mia... I could _never_ forget you."

His hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers sinking into her long, silky hair as his lips crashed against hers. He kissed her, and kissed her hard... perhaps for the final time.


	42. Apparitions

Hook entered the cabin, carrying a tray of food. Mia sat on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest. The length of chain which extended from the base of the bed to the fetter around her ankle was a stark reminder of just what she'd become.

His prisoner.

It had pained Hook to do it, but he didn't have a choice. As of late, Mia had become wild and unpredictable, like a frightened animal in the crosshairs of a hunter's rifle. Sometimes she cried in his arms. Other times, she lashed out at him. He often feared she'd inadvertently hurt herself in her struggles. She had to be restrained, and he refused to throw her in the brig. She didn't deserve that.

_She doesn't deserve_ any _of this,_ he admonished himself.

But what else could he do? He was bound to do Maleficent's bidding. The Dark Mistress would know if he turned against her, and the punishment would be brutal. Not just for him, but for everyone associated with him. Setting the tray on the table, he approached the bed.

"Miandra... would you care to eat?"

She said nothing, merely turned her gaze away from him.

Hook took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You haven't eaten in two days. You need to keep up your strength."

Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but she was not too tired to glare at him, it seemed. "What's the point?" she asked.

"The point of eating?" he said with a frown. "To stay alive. You'll get ill and waste away to your death bed if you don't."

"Maybe that's what I want."

"Mia, don't be stubborn."

"I'll be however I want!"

"You'll starve to death."

"Then so be it!" she snapped. "I'd rather die than be taken to Maleficent!"

Tears welled in her eyes. She was frightened again. With a sob, she turned her face away from him. His heart ached for her as he took her into his arms.

"Mia..."

She shoved him away, but he would not be denied. If he could not be her hero, her savior, the man to deliver her from the evil that awaited her, at the very least he would be her consoler. But clearly this wasn't one of those times she wanted consoling. For as he placed his hand against her cheek and tilted his face towards hers, she slapped him for his audacity. Hard.

The strike across his face reignited the rage inside of him. His furious glare, the one he'd directed at her only once before, returned. He lunged at her, pinning her down upon the bed. The girl cried out. Whatever he might feel for her, his anger was notorious. She should have known that to strike Captain James Hook was a foolish move.

Mia struggled beneath him, bucking, kicking and clawing as she tried desperately to fight a man against whom she knew she could not win. "Get off!" she shouted. "You can't expect me to... when you're taking me to Maleficent!" She writhed helplessly, but no less violently beneath him.

Hook seized one of her arms and pinned it on the bed above her head. Her other arm soon joined it, her slender wrist trapped in the curve of his hook. "You insolent girl! You fight me tooth and nail and dare to strike me!? I tried to tell you that I don't have a choice in this matter! I tried to make you understand that I didn't want to hurt you! But you leave me with little to no choice!"

His eyes were aflame with anger once more. Although his anger truly lay with another, he was helpless to direct it anywhere but at Mia. In the back of his mind, he knew it was childish behavior, but he'd always had difficulty controlling his temper. And she knew the stories! She should remember that he was a man who, in his past, had attempted to kill children and island natives, and who didn't think twice about killing his own crewmen for insubordination.

The door to the cabin opened to reveal Mr. Smee standing hesitantly in the doorway. "Er... everythin' all right there, Cap'n?"

"Smee! Fetch me irons and a length of chain! This wench needs to be reminded just who is captain aboard this ship!"

Smee shifted uncomfortably. "Er... I dunno if I'm havin' the constitution to assist in yer adventurous bedroom shenanigans. I feels it may be more than me old heart can take."

"SMEE!"

"A-Aye, Cap'n! Right away, Cap'n!"

Smee hurried out of the cabin as quick as his stubby legs could carry him. He returned shortly with the items Hook demanded, and soon, the irons were clapped to Mia's wrists and secured to the bed posts. Alone together once more, Hook hovered over Mia, glaring down at her. Mia whimpered as he leaned over her. She closed her eyes and braced herself for what was to come.

But it never came.

The temptation was there. Oh, it was very much there. He was a pirate and Mia his prisoner, after all. Time and time again, he had suppressed his urges, his desires, in favor of being a gentleman. While once upon the time, the idea of a beautiful young woman kidnapped and restrained, completely at his mercy would have been a delightful fantasy, now... now it just sickened him. He pulled away from Mia, unable to go through with what he'd at first intended to do. Looking at the sorry state Mia was in, his rage fizzled out.

"Damn it all..."

With a curse, he pulled away from her, leaving her untouched, though still chained in his bed. Mia felt a momentary sense of relief and gratitude. But it didn't last long. Instinctively, she tugged on the chains, but they were fastened tight. With a scream, she pulled on them, disheveling her hair and looking quite the fright, like some caged animal.

"LET ME GO!" she shouted. "Unchain me!"

"I will when you calm down, Miandra. Now stop before your hurt yourself."

Hook retrieved a bottle of port from a cabinet, not bothering to pour it into a glass, but simply uncorking it with his teeth and drinking straight from the bottle. One swig. Two swigs. A few glugs. He sealed the bottle and put it away, shaking his head in disgust at himself.

Despite his words to her, Mia still struggled and shouted at him, calling him all sorts of nasty names. But her heart wasn't truly in it. Mostly she just struggled and cried. Hook took a seat at his harpsichord and began to play a hunting dirge.

Mia quieted, not because she'd realized the futility of it, but because she felt somehow compelled to. She couldn't explain it, but she no longer had the desire or the strength. It was as though the harpsichord's music had stolen her voice, her energy, and even her will to resist. A seductive sleepiness stole over her, and she could not resist its siren's call. Mia's eyes fluttered closed and she gradually fell into a deep, deep sleep.

When the medley of magic and music ended, Hook rose from the bench and returned to the girl. Her sleep seemed almost disturbingly peaceful, considering how violently she'd fought. And perhaps her efforts to resist, to save herself, to survive, had been admirable in a way. But she never truly had any chance. Her only chance had been to kill him when she had the gun pointed at him. But a foolish girl's love for a man too wicked to be deserving would not allow her. Now, she was a helpless damsel, soon to belong to Maleficent.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," he said softly, brushing some strands of wayward hair from her face. "Then you could be free. And I... I would be no more. And then, perhaps, I could at last be at peace."

Hook freed her wrists from their bonds, leaving her with the steel anklet and a more generous length of chain. He pulled the covers over her and caressed her cheek as she slept a troubled sleep.

"I really _am_ sorry," he whispered.

~~~

The night was still, the air brisk, and yet it did not refresh him as perhaps it should. Hook leaned against the bulwarks, uninterested in taking the helm. In fact, he couldn't even bring himself to do so. The crew had been informed of their change in course, but Hook allowed Starkey to take them there. Doing it himself just made him feel worse.

The stars seemed somehow dimmer this night, and the moon not as bright. Nothing seemed to hold the same invigorating flavor they once had before the sea witch's arrival that dreadful night. Everything had lost its luster. Damn Ursula for coming and taking it all away from him! For a short time, Hook had dared to believe he could be happy. But it had been a fool's dream.

A tentative voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Cap'n..."

"What is it, Mason?" he asked stiffly, not removing his gaze from the vast dark sea.

"I just wanted to tells yeh... it ain't right, what yer doin' to Miss Baxter."

Hook snorted. "In case you didn't get the memo, Mason... That Miss _Baxter_ as you call her, is really Miss _Mercurial,_ our enemy's daughter. She deceived us all, and now she faces the consequences."

"But she loves you, Cap'n!"

Hook spun towards him, eyes blazing. "And what does Alf Mason know of love?" he spat. "When have _you_ felt such a thing, pillager of women, as you were?"

"I knows compassion!" Mason insisted, placing a hand over his heart. "Miss Baxter... Miss Mercurial showed it ta me. I've changed me ways because of her!"

"Indeed," Hook sneered. "She saved you from certain death, so now you see it as your duty to protect the girl, do you?"

"With due respect, Cap'n," said Mason, his lower lip aquiver. "Methinks yer throwin' away the best thing that ever happened to yeh. I think yer a fool... a heartless fool."

The captain's blue eyes raged red as he brandished his hook and stalked towards Mason. "Do you think this is _easy_ for me?" he shouted. "Do you think I _want_ to do this? That being a villain has always been an easy road?" He swung his hook for emphasis, and Mason leapt back. "Do you think I'm without mercy? Without feelings? Do you think I relish in every wicked thing I'm forced to do? Am I not still human?"

Mason jumped as Hook slammed his steel namesake into the railing beside him. The captain's eyes glared into his subordinate's. Mason swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"I-I only thought perhaps you m-might reconsider our course? If'n ye feels the way ye do about the girl, then--"

"I am bound by the will of Maleficent," Hook snarled through clenched teeth. "You know this as well as anyone else."

"But—"

"Would _you_ do it, Mason? Would _you_ rescue Miandra and set out to sea in one of the longboats? Be her savior?" Hook laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, there's more than Ursula's kraken that awaits you if you do. You can be sure of that." The captain crossed his arms and glared down at Mason. "Would _you_ go up against the Dark Mistress? Would _you_ face down Maleficent for that girl?"

Alf Mason lowered his gaze. It was all the answer Hook needed.

"I didn't think so," he sneered. With that, he turned heel and took his leave of the deck and his men. They were no comfort to him. No one was.

Hook returned to his cabin, closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to regain his composure. But suddenly he became alert to another's presence. A quick glance at his bed revealed Mia was still fast asleep. But there was someone... something... else. He heard the pitter patter of tiny feet and a child's giggle. Hook stepped forward and spun quickly in a circle, searching for the source of the sound as he drew a pistol from his belt.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

Upon his command, a small child peeked out from behind the overturned chaise lounge. Giggling, she tore across the room, ducking and crawling under his map table. Gaily, she hopscotched across the room before coming to a halt in the center of the cabin. The adorable little girl couldn't be more than four years old, with long auburn hair and a princess dress and small tiara. Just where in the world had she come from? Hook was so flabbergasted that he lowered his pistol, uncertain how to react.

"How did...?"

"Mia," said a voice.

Both Hook and the little girl turned towards the source of the voice. Hook watched in astonishment as a kind-faced man stepped into the room through the cabin wall.

"W-What?!"

"Daddy!" the little girl cried gleefully, running towards him.

The man scooped her up and their noses met in an endearing little Eskimo kiss. It was then Hook noticed that the child and her father were not completely solid. In fact, they were semi-transparent with a ghostly sort of quality to them. Wide-eyed, Hook glanced back at Mia, asleep in her bed.

"You're doing this!" he exclaimed. "Somehow... you're doing this..."

But, of course, she didn't reply. The harpsichord had sent her into a very deep sleep. He could see her eyelids twitching and her eyes roaming beneath them the way they do when one is dreaming. Yet still, Hook addressed her.

"Is this a dream? Your memory? Is this small child... It's you, isn't it?"

When he turned back to the two ghostly figures, he saw the girl lying upon a small, ghostly bed, and the man, presumably her adoptive father, bending over to give her a goodnight kiss. But when the man turned to leave, little Mia cried out to him.

"Daddy, I'm scared."

Her father returned to the bed. "What are you scared of, honey?"

"Witches," she mumbled embarrassedly. "And dragons."

"Like the one in the movie?"

She nodded.

"Aw, sweetie, Maleficent isn't real. And even if she was, Prince Phillip killed her. Remember?"

Prince Philip kill Maleficient? A preposterous notion! Surely they must be speaking of that ridiculous children's picture from the other side.

"Besides, not all dragons are bad. They just get a bad rap. Here, look." Her father handed her two stuffed dragons, one purple and one green. "Like Figment and Elliot. They're _good_ dragons. They'll protect you. How about that?"

The little Mia smiled and nestled deeper beneath the covers, cuddling the stuffed toys. Her father leaned down and gave her another kiss.

"Good night, Mia."

"G'night, Daddy."

Hook continued to watch Mia's dream – or maybe it was more of a memory than a dream – play out before him. Slowly, he approached the phantom bed, just as the figure of her father walked away, vanishing through the wall. Hook stood at the bedside, staring for a long time at the little girl who could not see him. But eventually, little Mia sat up and glanced about her.

At first, Hook thought she somehow, miraculously, sensed his presence. But it did not seem to be _his_ presence that she sensed.

"D-Daddy?" she whimpered.

Her father did not return.

Little Mia hopped down from her bed, looking around fearfully.

"Daddy?" she called again.

But still, the ghostly figure of her father did not return. It was then Hook sensed the same presence as the little girl. Together, he and little Mia turned to face the back corner of his cabin. There, a small green ball of flame began to glow. It looked so real that at first Hook thought that the Dark Mistress had truly come. But no, this was more of the dream; a dream that was slowly becoming a nightmare.

The little girl cried out, "Daddy! Daddy, she's here! It's Maleficent! Save me!"

But her heroic father did not come, and the glow grew ever brighter. Young Mia was positively atremble now. She began to back away from the glow, but it continued towards her as a pair of yellow eyes materialized above it. Even as the dream played out, even though he knew this wasn't real, Maleficent appearing before him still made Hook take a nervous step back.

The little girl screamed and Mia's sleeping form gave a violent jerk. The cabin door flew open behind them.

"Cap'n? Everythin'... AHHH!" Smee had just entered the cabin, only to lay eyes upon the formidable horned fae. "C-Cap'n! Y-Ye d-didn't t-tell me that yer b-b-beautiful and m-magnanimous m-mistress was ta' be v-visitin' our humble s-ship!" He doffed his bandanna and hastily bowed to Maleficent, but not too low, for fear of exposing too much of his neck.

"Easy, Smee," Hook muttered softly. "It's not really her. Look closer."

Looking as though taking a closer gander at the dark fairy was the last thing he wanted to do, Smee nonetheless obeyed.

"Blimey! She's see-through! A ghost?"

"No, Smee," said Hook, never once taking his eyes away from Maleficent nor the small child as he gestured towards his bed. "Our Miss Mercurial is dreaming all this. And, somehow, she's astral projecting the images. She must be subconsciously tapping into her 'spark,' as it were."

"W-Well, then," said Smee, looking only somewhat relieved. "If'n that be the case, the Dark Mistress won't be offended if'n I get the hell outta here." And with that, he scurried from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hook watched, wide-eyed, as the horned fairy stalked towards the child. With another cry of fright, the little girl turned and ran, holding the purple stuffed dragon to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she screamed for a father who would not come. She ran across the cabin, glancing hastily over her shoulder to see if she was being followed when she fell at Hook's feet. Ever so slowly, the little girl's eyes traveled up the pair of legs and looked up into his face. For the briefest of moments, the dream child saw him.

But that was impossible! It was all a dream, wasn't it? This young version of Miandra wasn't truly here. And neither was Maleficent... right? And yet, all the same, Hook could feel the cold darkness beginning to engulf the room. His eyes met the child's.

"Please... don't look at me like that. What could I possibly do?" He shook his head as his gaze returned to the dark fairy as she came for the child. "I can't... I-I just can't..."

The girl's tiny lips began to tremble. She turned her gaze back to the dark fairy now bearing down on her. "NOOO!" she screamed. But with one fell swoop, Maleficent was upon her.

Hook's eyes widened in horror as he watched the vile, shadowy apparition descend upon the child, who was swallowed whole in the darkness of the fairy's cloak.

"NO!"

But little Mia was no more. This was where the dream took a nonsensical but truly frightening turn, as nightmares are wont to do. The dark fairy rose up with a smile full of sharp teeth dripping with the blood of the child she'd just consumed. Although Hook knew this vampiric version of Maleficent was merely a fabrication of Mia's subconscious, not to mention a preposterous interpretation, his blood still ran cold at the sight.

The sound of a scream caused the image to vanish. In his bed, Mia was tossing and turning and shrieking in absolute terror. At first, Hook couldn't move. He was frozen to the spot. Was it shock or perhaps even fear itself that held him there? But something inside him burned as he forced himself to go to her. One step, two steps, and then he was running to his bed.

"Mia! Mia, wake up!" He grabbed her shoulder and shook her the best he could. "Wake up, Miandra! Please!"

But Mia would not wake up. The harpsichord's spell had ensured that she would sleep till morning. But at the sound of his voice, her screaming subsided. She must have sensed his presence. No longer screaming, but still very much asleep and trembling, Mia's body went slack and her screams became sobs.

It was all too clear what had happened. Mia had been having a nightmare, and with the aid of her dreamfinding abilities, over which it was becoming increasingly clear she had no control, she had projected her dream into apparitions. The girl's powers were not yet as powerful as that of the Dreamfinder's. If they had been, it was quite possible she could have truly created a child version of herself or even summoned the real Maleficent. Hook shuddered at the thought.

The dream had revealed much; memories from when she was a child, and her deep-seeded fear of Maleficent; a fear she possessed even before she knew the dark fairy truly existed. And now, the thing she feared most was the very thing James Hook was hand-delivering her to.

The girl shivered and trembled upon the bed, tears streaking her cheeks. The dream had left her, but the memory still burned inside her, enveloping her in fear and darkness. Her cries were like that of a little child, and never before had the sounds of a child rang so piteously in Hook's ear. The sound of it tugged at heartstrings he didn't know he had.

Hook gathered the girl into his arms and held her against him, gently rocking her the way he might a crying baby. But instead of a lullaby, all he had to offer were the following words.

"Oh, Mia... Darling, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."


	43. The Tragedy of James Hook

In the wee hours of morning, Mia awoke to a strange sound. Strange, but familiar. It was a sound she hadn't heard in an awfully long time.

_Papa I know you're going to be upset  
'Cause I was always your little girl  
But you should know by now  
I'm not a baby_

It was one of Edward Baxter's favorite 1980s pop songs, and thus, one which Mia had assigned as his ringtone, much to his chagrin. The lyrics were ones that he didn't wish to consider in regards to his teenage daughter. But nevertheless, she couldn't let go of the joke, and so it stuck.

_You always taught me right from wrong  
I need your help, daddy please be strong  
I may be young at heart  
But I know what I'm saying_

Mia's eyes shot open. It was still dark outside. The sun had not yet risen, but there was a faint glow on the horizon outside the cabin window and an oil lamp still flickered dimly on the charting table. Mia's backpack lay atop the maps, and Madonna's voice was singing faintly from within.

Mia sat up in bed, shoving the captain's arm off of her, and bolted from the bed only to trip over the length of chain which ran from the fetter around her ankle to the base of the bedpost. The captain snorted awake, watching with bleary eyes as Mia scrambled to her feet, dragging the length of chain with her towards the table.

"Wnn... Whuu... What's that?"

_The one you warned me all about  
The one you said I could do without  
We're in an awful mess  
And I don't mean maybe, please  
Papa don't preach I'm in trouble deep._

Mia's hands plunged into her bag and she pulled out her phone. She held it in a trembling hand, barely believing what she was seeing. The battery life was at full bar, even though it had died shortly after her arrival in Dizgaia, never mind that it couldn't possibly have service in an alternate dimension! But all the same, the name 'Dad' and a familiar phone number was flashing across the screen. Shaking, Mia swiped her finger across the screen and spoke tremulously into the phone.

"H-Hello? Hello?"

Edward Baxter's voice came from the other end. It was fuzzy, crackling, but unmistakable.

"Mia???"

Hook sat up, rubbing his eyes as he slowly came further and further out of his sleep. "What? Who's there?"

Mia could hear Hook's awakening snorts, confused mutterings, and the bed creaking as he arose, but she did her best to ignore him. She stuck a finger in her free ear as her grip tightened on the phone.

"Dad?!"

"Mia! Oh, thank God! Sweetie, where... bzz..."

Mia was having trouble hearing him. There was a lot of static, as though their connection was weak. Not surprising. It was a long-distance call, a whole dimension away!

"Dad! Dad, I can't—"

"Mia! Mia, honey, you're breaking up! Please, I... bzz... Where are you?"

Mia's whole body was atremble. "Y-You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Mia—"

"Dad, please listen! I'm... I'm far away. Far, _far_ away, and I can't... I can't..."

"Mia, honey! I'll come and get you! Just... bzzz... where you are!"

"You can't!" she wailed helplessly. "That's what I'm trying to tell you! Dad, please just listen to me! I-I want you to know I love you! I love you so much, Dad! But I'm probably... I'm probably never going to see you again! I'm... I'm so sorry!"

"Bzzz... Mia... bzzz... where..."

"Dad! Can you hear me? How long has it been?"

"Bzzz... long? Bzzz... understand."

"How long have I been..."

The static was increasing.

"Dad!"

"Mi... bzz... a?"

Hook rose from his bed to find Mia speaking into some narrow device, crying out to... her father? Was she somehow calling out to the Dreamfinder? Just what was happening here? At first, Hook did not approach. A part of him that wished to leave her be. But that would not do. He had to act. He could not allow her any possibility of rescue. Maleficent would have his head. With narrowed gaze, the half-dressed captain approached, stalking up behind the girl.

"What are you doing, Miandra? Just who in the blazes do you think you're talking to?"

Mia cried out as Hook seized her arm and pulled the phone away from her ear. "No! Please!" she cried. "It may be the last time I'll ever speak to him! Please!"

Suddenly, she was quite foolishly wrestling with Hook, trying to bring her phone back to her ear. Meanwhile, they both heard the voice on the other end, and it certainly wasn't the Dreamfinder's.

"Who is that?" came the man's voice from the other side. "Mia, is someone... bzzz... with you? Is that... bzzz... from Disney World? Hey! Hey, you... bzzz! If you hurt my daughter, I swear I'll... bzzz... Let her go! Bzzz... call the police! Do you understand me? You're getting yourself into... bzzz... trouble than it's worth! Bzzz... worse if you don't cooperate! Please, let me speak... bzzz... my daughter! I'm begging... bzzz!"

"Who are you talking to, Miandra? What are you telling them? This is one of those new telephones, isn't it? Who are you talking to on _my_ ship?"

New telephones, indeed! Mia would have laughed under other circumstances. Hook kept trying to pull the phone away from her, but she had a death-grip on it, refusing to let go. All the while, Hook could hear someone who was definitely not the Dreamfinder on the other end.

"Blast it, girl! Unhand it!" he demanded as he finally managed to pry the phone away from her.

"No!" she cried, still grappling for it.

Hook held the phone up to his face in a most improper manner as he shouted into it. "Hello? Hello? Whoever this is... I'm afraid there will be no communiques with my... Get off, girl!" Then, to the man on the phone, "Whoever you are, interfere and I'll run you through!"

Edward's voice shouted from the other side. "WHO THE HELL IS THIS? DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY...bzzz..."

Hook held the phone closer to his mouth. "THIS IS CAPTAIN JAMES HOO-AGH!!!"

Mia leapt onto Hook's back with her arms around his neck, reaching over his shoulder for the phone, which he still wasn't even holding properly.

"DAD!" she shouted into the phone as she groped for it. "Dad, I—"

"Mi... bzzz... a! Bzzzz."

Hook staggered. With the phone in his only hand and his hook detached, he didn't have a free hand to knock Mia off of him. "Get... Get off! Blast you, girl!"

Hook lost his balance, and went tumbling to the floor, taking Mia with him. The phone slipped from Hook's grasp, clattering across the wooden floor.

"Nggh! Are you mad, girl?"

Gritting her teeth against the dull ache in her side, Mia crawled to where the phone had fallen. Ignoring Hook's exclamations, she picked it up and spoke desperately into it.

"Hello? Dad? DAD!"

There was nothing there. Just the sound of static. And soon, the call blipped out completely and the phone died, as though it had never had any battery life to begin with. Mia sat on her knees, gazing at her lifeless phone, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"That was my dad," she said quietly. "From Earth. Not the Dreamfinder, but my adopted father."

She didn't know why she was even bothering to say this. What did Hook care? Mia squeezed the phone tightly in her hand, pressing the 'on' button over and over again, trying desperately to make it come back to life.

"Turn on, damn you! Work! You were working before!"

It was no use. Her phone was dead and her father was gone.

"DAMN IT!"

In a despairing rage, Mia threw the phone across the room. It struck the bird cage. The two glowing, green-eyed parrots each let out a distressed squawk and beat their wings, knocking the black sheet off the cage and sending feathers flying. Mia buried her face in her hands and cried.

Hook pulled himself together and stood behind the girl, hesitating. He had been quite angry. His first instinct was to haul her roughly to her feet and punish her severely for her insubordination. But seeing her like this, he suddenly found that he lacked the strength.

"Your... Earth father? But how could anyone from the other side communicate with you here? It's impossible."

"Don't you think I know that?" she snapped, although she was too overcome with despair to muster up the proper venom required. "I don't know the how. I just know it's true. It was him." She lowered her tear-filled gaze, for a moment observing quiet contemplation. "I... I dreamt about him last night. My Earth father, that is. I think it was a memory. He used to read to me when I was a little girl. In the dream, he was reading... he was reading _Peter Pan_. It was almost as though when I dreamt about him, I somehow..."

She trailed off. That couldn't be it. She may be the Dreamfinder's daughter, but she couldn't truly be _that_ powerful.

"I just don't know, okay?" she said, finally dragging herself to her feet. She stood with her hands on the map table, her arms trembling. "All I know is that the call came through, I answered, and it was my dad. And now... I'll never be able to talk to him again. I'll never see him again, touch him again, hear his voice again, be held by him... none of it! And the worst part is... ever since coming to Dizgaia, I-I'd somehow forgotten all about him."

And then, she began to cry harder. Hook's expression softened to one of pity. The untold details of her life, piece by piece, were being revealed to him. He had to remember, there was a whole other life to this girl, not just the one she lived here on Dizgaia.

A strong desire came over him; the desire to know more. Calmly, Hook took a seat at his charting table, keeping his gaze on Mia. "Tell me about him," he said softly.

Mia blinked at him, tears shining in her large hazel eyes. "T-Tell you about my... my dad?" She wasn't sure what she had expected after their tussle, but it certainly wasn't this. "W-Well, his name is Edward Baxter and he..."

A look of panic flickered across her face. For a moment, she couldn't remember anything about him other than his name.

"I-I'm having trouble. Why?"

Hook's face was unfathomable as she struggled to remember this Edward Baxter. He honestly wasn't surprised by this. Not only did Neverland make one forget things, but it was said that Dizgaia itself had a similar effect on people from the other world.

Shakily, Mia took a seat at the table, the length of chain dragging loudly across the floor. "He... He married my mom..."

_Obviously, Mia._

"A-After she took me to Earth, we were in a homeless shelter for women and children. I was a year old. E-Edward, my dad, he volunteered there. They met, fell in love, and got married. He adopted me when I was two years old. Until recently, he was the only father I ever knew. I mean, I knew I had a biological father, but I thought he was dead. That's what mom told me. I didn't know anything about the Dreamfinder or about Dizgaia. But Edward was a good dad. He _is_ a good dad. He..."

She trailed off again and put her forehead in her hands. Why was Hook making her do this? Was it to make the atmosphere a little less volatile? Was it in an effort to calm her down? Or perhaps... perhaps he genuinely wanted to help her remember her father.

"Oh God... Why can't I remember it all? It's like..." She closed her eyes tightly, trying to concentrate. For a while, she was silent. Then – "He read to me when I was little... Yes! Yes, he read to me! Bedtime stories. Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, J.M. Barrie, Jules Verne. I grew up loving to read and eventually learned to write. He always encouraged me to write, and to draw. He was always there for me..."

Slowly, she lifted her head, bringing her eyes to Hook. It was all coming back. "He was always trying to get me to follow my dreams... because he was never able to follow his." A bittersweet smile played across her face. "He's a wonderful father, and I love him."

Despite the fact that she was fettered and chained to a bedpost, despite the fact that she was a prisoner and being delivered to Maleficent by the very man with whom she'd fallen in love and who had betrayed her, Mia felt immense relief, as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. For now, she remembered that which she'd forgotten -- her father.

"Congratulations, Miandra," said Hook, wearing a soft smile. "Now you remember."

"Is that why you asked me to tell you about him?" asked Mia, surprised by this sudden streak of altruism in a man who had recently become her enemy.

Had Hook prompted her on purpose? Was it his intention all along to help her remember? But why? If their little love story (if it could ever have truly been called that) was over and he was taking her to her doom, why would he have bothered? Could it be that he still...

"Why?" she asked, desperately needing to know.

"Because a parent, Miandra, should never be forgotten. I wanted to help you remember everything about your adoptive father because I know _I'll_ never forget... my mother."

"Your mother?"

Mia's eyes moved to the wardrobe at the back of the cabin, whereupon sat the music box and the silver hairbrush she used every morning. Her hand moved to the back of her head, her fingers brushing lightly against the dainty jewel-encrusted barrette.

"The music box," she said slowly. "That was your mother's. And the hairbrush... and the barrette."

"She was a wonderful woman," Hook said quietly. "A beautiful, kind, thoughtful woman. She supported me in everything I did. I would do anything to make her smile. She so loved hearing me play the harpsichord. She said..." He paused, swallowing hard. "She said, 'James, someday you'll play before grand audiences! _Royal_ audiences! You'll be a fine musician someday.'"

Mia listened, intrigued. It sounded like James' mother was to him as Mia's father, Edward, was to her. "Go on," she gently prompted, when it seemed he lacked the courage.

Taking a breath, Hook continued. "I played music for her. We read stories together. She supported everything I wanted for my life." His hand lowered to the table and his fingers curled into a fist. "Except... she had to marry _that man._ He didn't think highly of arts... culture, literature, music. He felt it was all a waste of time. He said, 'We'll make a real man of you yet, James.' He sent me away to boarding school, away from my mother. Then he forced me into the military, into a naval career. 'I'll make a man of you, James! Enough of these pansy, piddling interests. Toughen you up. Make you into a _real_ man!'"

As he spoke of his stepfather, who stifled what the Dreamfinder would no doubt call his 'spark,' Mia began to feel anger on Hook's behalf. After all, she knew what it was like to have someone discourage you. Not her parents, thank goodness. Granted, her mother was always pushing her for a different career and trying to convince her there was no future in writing and in the arts, but not to the degree of Hook's callous stepfather. Still, there had been others throughout Mia's life.

"But that's not what I wanted," said Hook, his voice tremulous. "I never wanted to be a soldier or a sailor. I wanted to be a musician and make my mother happy."

Mia leaned towards him across the table, suddenly very invested in spite of her rather dismal situation. "But then why not do so?" she asked earnestly. "Why become a pirate?"

Hook slowly shook his head. "I had to... to survive. Long John Silver taught me how to tough it out as a scallywag, but only because I fled _proper civilization_."

"I see," said Mia softly. "So that was your only way out of the navy and out from under your stepfather."

"That man... my _stepfather,_ " he spoke the word scathingly. "Kept me away from my mother, treated me like dirt. But it was nothing compared to the way he treated her. He didn't love her. He didn't care about her. And he despised me. The feeling was mutual." His fist pounded the table, making Mia jump. "I hated him! Hated him for forcing me away from my mother. I hated him for destroying my dreams. I hated him for his philandering ways when my mother's health began to decline. And most of all, I hated him... for beating my mother."

Mia drew in a sharp breath, but she uttered not a word, for fear Hook would stop his tale. Although she already knew this story would undoubtedly end unhappily, she wanted, _needed_ to know more.

"I was determined to fix everything. I wanted everything back to way it once was." His voice lowered to a more dangerous tone. "I wanted... to kill him."

Mia tensed. She drew another breath and held it, hardly aware she was doing it.

"After graduating from Kingstone College, I came home again, only to see that my mother had grown ill... tired... distant... cold. _He_ did that to her. _He_ made her into a shell of her former self. What was more, her body was a wreck. Bruised and broken. It was the worst I'd seen her yet." Hook's fingers flexed, raking across the table and ending in a fist. "I wanted to save her from that life! I wanted to take her away from him! So... I made a decision. With a pistol in hand, I went to him, determined to end his miserable life. I fired, but..."

His head fell, his long hair hanging in front of his face. Mia was shocked to hear the sound of dripping water as tears plipped onto his maps and charts. She wouldn't have believed it if she wasn't seeing it with her very own eyes; James Hook was crying. Tentatively, she reached for him, but stopped as he pounded his fist on the table and shouted through his tears.

"SHE GOT IN THE WAY! She tried to stop me and I shot... I _killed_ my own mother. Because of that man, I killed the one woman who believed in me, who supported me. My mother died... at my own hands."

Mia's breath hitched in her throat. She suddenly felt like she was choking or drowning, maybe both. Her eyes prickled with tears to match Hook's, threatening to cascade down her cheeks. But she kept them in check as she tried to find the words. But she couldn't.

_It was an accident,_ she wanted to say. But, somehow, she did not think these words would offer him any comfort. Mia didn't know how long they sat there in silence before she finally managed to croak out a question.

"Why tell me this now... of all times?"

"Because I wanted you to know. I wanted to share that for a long time. But there was no one I could ever turn to, no one who wouldn't judge me. Only Maleficent and the Dark Ones, as you so aptly call them." Slowly, Hook rose from his seat. "Now you know how I became the man that I am. My stepfather tried to kill me immediately after. But I stopped him. I stopped him from ever hurting anyone again."

Hook turned away from Mia and went to the large windows at the back of the cabin. He looked out through the glass panes, his gaze far beyond the horizon.

"That's when I fled. That's when I got on a ship that was captured by pirates. And _that's_... when I began my career as the most dreaded pirate in all of Dizgaia."

Mia rose to her feet and tried to go to him. But to her dismay, the chain only allowed her to go so far. "But you can turn all of that around!" she insisted. "You can stop being a pirate! You can ask for immunity. I would vouch for you! That sort of thing happened on Earth all the time back in the golden age of piracy. Pirates grew jaded with the dangers, with being outcasts. They offered their services to the kings and queens of different countries and became privateers. Do what Silver said! Free yourself! Don't you think your mother would have wanted that?"

Hook's single fist clenched tightly at his side. "I've told you before, it's impossible." He turned back to face her, his blue eyes dangerously narrowed, and yet somehow still alluring. Always alluring. "This is my existence now. This is where I am to be. Otherwise... _she_ will have me dragged to the depths. Thus would end James Hook. I won't have that, Miandra. And after all... _she's_ the one who gave me the courage to end my stepfather's life."

"She... You mean Maleficent?" Mia was baffled, but soon puzzlement turned to anger. "You think she did you a favor? She didn't give you courage! She manipulated you!" Mia shook her head in disgust. "She's poison. For all we know, she _wanted_ your mother to end up dead because she knew then you'd truly give up your soul. That's it, isn't it? It was all some sort of scheme!"

"It doesn't matter now, Miandra," he said wearily, as though he lacked the strength to argue with her. "There is no turning back. Say what you will. Call me whatever you wish. My life ended the day I put a bullet into my mother's heart. Maleficent's will is all that matters now."

His words made Mia sick to her heart as well as her stomach. She could still see the anger swelling inside him as his hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his side. And it was quite frightening to be on the receiving end of that penetrating gaze. But slowly, his expression softened as he drew near.

"How I wish... How I wish you truly were the daughter of Edward Baxter. The only need I'd have of you then would just be the touch, the feel of your lips, your hands... your warmth." Hook placed his hand against her cheek, his thumb tracing gently over her lips. "To remind me what it's like to truly feel anything again."

Those words! Oh, what conflicting and confusing feelings they stirred in her! Although unfallen tears stung her eyes, Mia tried hard not to let them fall. To cry over him now would be the act of a fool. But as his hand caressed her cheek, the compulsion to cry grew stronger. A voice in her head urged her to step away, not to let him get closer, that he didn't deserve to be near her, and that if she dared to let him touch her, she was as good as accepting the fate to which he was delivering her. But she did not back away. She sought his warmth as desperately as he sought hers.

"You're brave, Miandra Mercurial. Hold on to that bravery."

A single treacherous tear trickled down her cheek, as though seeking to prove him wrong. Hook wiped it away with a gentle brush of his thumb. Mia knew she shouldn't allow him to caress her so. Not now. But when she reached up and took ahold of his wrist, she found that she lacked the resolve to remove it. Instead, she simply held him there.

"I only wish your heart could truly belong to me," he said softly.

More tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over like a cistern filled with too much water. "Then who _will_ it belong to? If not you, if not Peter, then who?" Her eyes narrowed, which only caused more tears to spill out. "Perhaps it will belong to the reaper when Maleficent kills me," she said darkly. "Or perhaps she will place a spell on me; make me compliant, blindly loyal, seeking love in the embrace of darkness and evil. And you... you can live with that, I suppose?"

Hook remained silent. Who _would_ Mia's heart belong to? And _could_ he live with Mia – a girl so sweet, kind and innocent, not so unlike his mother – being made subservient to such dark forces? He had no answers to these questions. Only a pained gaze.

Mia lowered her hand and averted her gaze from his, unable to meet those blue forget-me-nots. Her eyes traveled around the room, falling upon the easel, the set of paints, her sketchbook, and her notebook laying on the bedside table.

"You said your mother encouraged you to pursue your passions and follow your dreams. Is that why you did what you did for me? The paints, the easel, forcing me to read my stories aloud and with confidence... Because you lost your chance to do what you loved, and you didn't want the same fate to befall me?"

"Yes," he replied. "When I saw how passionate you were about all your endeavors, I couldn't let them get crushed as mine did. You're right; it was my memories of my mother that moved me to cultivate you in the way she cultivated me."

Mia nodded, for the moment, unable to speak for tears. It was painful to hear him confirm her suspicions; painful because it was so kind, so wonderful, so compassionate that, juxtaposed to what he was now doing to her, where he was now taking her, it hurt all the more.

"You spoke of how your stepfather turned your mother into a shell of her former self," said Mia softly. "What do you think will happen to me if you give me to Maleficent? What do you think will happen to my dreams and passions then – assuming she doesn't kill me, that is?"

Hook lowered his gaze shamefully. "There is no point in this, Miandra. I have no power to stop her. I have not the will to turn my back on her. Do you believe that I don't know what will happen? Any power you might have, she will take for her own uses. Your dreams and passions won't matter any longer. You will be reshaped to Maleficent's whims."

He spoke so tonelessly, so matter-of-factly, he could have been in school, reciting an answer to a teacher's question. How could he be so cold? So devoid of emotion when speaking of her ill fate? But then the emotion came.

"And I... I will simply be the courier that allows it to happen," he said, his eyes shining with fresh, unmanly tears. "What I want, what I desire does not matter to her."

"Yes... I'm sure it doesn't," said Mia scathingly. "Maleficent sounds like a great person to pledge your loyalty to." She turned away from him and gazed out the window at the rising dawn, her tears flowing freely now.

Hook closed his eyes and sighed, trying to regain composure. Mia's scornful words were not lost on him. Of course, he knew being loyal to Maleficent was a daft idea. He had very little interest in handing over the entire world on a silver platter to a wicked fairy who worshiped a monstrous demon lord. Turning Dizgaia into a veritable hellscape didn't leave much opportunity for a pirate captain to fit into the equation. Who knew what would become of him once Maleficent had all her pawns in place and made that final checkmate? But Mia didn't understand why he followed Maleficent, why he would do anything for her.

"I hope she kills me," said Mia softly. "That would be far better than having to live without hope, without passion." Her voice stuck briefly in her throat before she was able to finish her thought. "I'll give her no choice but to kill me," she said resolutely.

Hook's eyes snapped open. "NO!" he exclaimed, grabbing Mia by the shoulder and spinning her around to face him. "I won't let that happen! If you die, then..." He shook his head, not quite sure what he was trying to say. His grip tightened on her shoulder. "You have power! I've seen it! Use it, Miandra! I can't stop this from happening, but _you_ can! You're more powerful than I! You're the blasted Dreamfinder's daughter!"

"I can't!" she shouted, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't control it! Do you really think I have any chance against Maleficent and her entourage of magic users, just because I'm the Dreamfinder's daughter? I'm just a girl from Earth!" She pounded her fists against his bare chest as she shouted and cried. "I'm just a girl from Earth and I never asked for any of this!"

Hook was as stoic and unmoving as a statue as Mia continued to pound on his chest, and she wasn't pulling her punches either. But when his one good, strong arm wrapped around her middle, it was enough to stop her as he pulled her to him, trapping her against his body. Mia crumpled against him, burying her face in his chest.

"I'm not telling you to fight against Maleficent," he said quietly. "That would be a fool's errand." He lowered his head, resting his chin upon her silky auburn hair. "I'm telling you to fight against _me_. You can stop _me_ , Miandra. If you but kill me, summon your pistol and strike, and strike true, my ship is yours! I have no doubt my men will pledge their loyalty to you. In their eyes you'd be doing them a favor. You gained Alf Mason's eternal loyalty, my cabin boy is head-over-heels for you, and you've won over the rest of my crew with your delightful talents. But as long as I live, they'll do my bidding. And as long as I live, I must obey my Dark Mistress' wishes and deliver you to her. So stop me, Miandra. Please."

"I tried!" she wailed. "The flintlock... I summoned it, somehow, when I was scared. I had the chance to kill you, but I couldn't! You _know_ this!" Her arms encircled him as she sobbed against his chest. "I hate you," she said, her fingers digging painfully into his shoulder blades. "I hate that I couldn't kill you when I had the chance! I hate that your loyalty to Maleficent outweighs your feelings for me! I hate that you're a selfish, evil bastard, and I hate that I'm stupid enough to love you!"

Hook rested his cheek atop her head as his arms tightened around her. "Understand this, Miandra," he said softly. "It is not a simple matter of loyalty that binds me to Maleficent. A pirate's life, a villain's life... is not the one I've chosen. It's the one I've been _cursed_ with. When I killed both my mother and stepfather, Maleficent's curse was triggered. I literally cannot move against her because... because she... owns me."

Mia pulled away from him slightly, taking a step back as she gazed up at him with a furrowed brow. No words need be said. That look was enough of a question in itself. Hook's gaze met hers, and in a most peculiar of moments, she saw an expression on the villain's face that she never thought she'd see. It was a look of desperation... almost... despair.

"Maleficent had her eye on me long before I became a pirate," he explained. "She could feel my anger. My hatred. My resentment for my stepfather. Before I even knew it was her, Maleficent planted her influence in my mind. It was like a budding flower... When I committed my first true act of evil, taking the lives of my mother and stepfather both... it blossomed. Her influence is strong on me, Miandra. She sent me down this path."

Mia shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't understand," she said. Or was it simply that she did not _want_ to understand?

"After my time with Silver, Maleficent came to me, seduced me, took total control of me."

Slowly, Mia backed away from him, shaking her head and feeling sick.

"I hate this existence," he said through clenched teeth, his hand flexing and unflexing at his side. "I hate what I've become. I've tried to end it all on several occasions. But she won't allow it! There's nothing... _nothing_ I can do to change a bloody thing. I am her servant... whether I desire it or not."

Mia turned away from him, shaking. A curse... a curse triggered by an act of evil. Hook had been set up. She wanted to beg him to simply stop obeying Maleficent. But, somehow, she didn't think it was that easy. Mia didn't know much about curses or how they worked, but she had the feeling that there would be dire consequences for Hook if he attempted to disobey his dark mistress, or perhaps he was physically incapable of disobedience. Mia didn't know, and she didn't want to ask. She didn't want to hear any more! She couldn't take any more!

Hook's words echoed in her head.

_Maleficent came to me, seduced me, took total control of me._

Hardly realizing what she was doing, Mia let out a furious scream. In a violent rage, she shoved the maps off the table and seized an ink bottle and threw it with all her might across the cabin. The bottle smashed against the wall, spraying its black substance across the wood. She grabbed the easel and threw it to the floor, sending the canvass painting atop it tumbling down as well. Mia snatched the paints from the charting table, and soon they, too, joined the ink blotch on the wall. All the while, she continued to scream. Wild and out of control, she knew nothing but pain and anger.

Through it all, Hook stood silently by, watching her, allowing her this moment of unbridled rage. Finally, her volatile energy waned. She had nothing left. Breathing heavily, Mia grabbed the bedpost and pressed her forehead against it to steady herself. Her eyes closed. Tears slipped beneath her lashes and down her cheeks as her shoulders shook, rising and falling with every heavy, furious breath. It felt as though the entire world was crumbling around her.

First, there was Peter, who'd forgotten her. Then Captain Hook, her kidnapper. How she'd feared him. And then... then she'd fallen in love with him, only for him to betray her because of _who_ she was and because of whom _he_ aligned himself with. He was the courier and she the package to be taken to the Mistress of Darkness herself, and Hook would not deny his mistress. He would not break his alignment. He would not 'turn good' as so many antiheroes did in romance novels, in order to save and protect her. This was no fairy tale. It was a nightmare. And yet, despite everything, he'd shared so much of himself. He'd taught her so much. Mia still felt strongly for him, and she loathed herself for it.

Once more, Hook's hand came to her shoulder. Mia shoved it away with a violent shrug. But he would not be denied. Again, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him. Mia stood with her back pressed against the bedpost while his terrible, beautiful, wonderful blue eyes gazed penetratingly into hers.

_This is the last time,_ were the words that ran through his head. He didn't know where exactly those words came from, but he knew they were likely true.

Mia glared at him through her tears. But when his hand moved to the back of her neck and when his lips claimed hers with a fiery passion, Mia's eyes fell tightly closed. She put up no resistance as her lips formed to his, matching his passion with her own. They shared a brief moment of bliss before she yanked her lips away and shoved him in the chest.

"I hate you," she said tremulously. Then, with more vigor, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hands curled into fists on his chest as she pounded on him again and again. "I hate you, I hate you!"

Hook remained silent. There was nothing to say. Only those words that echoed in his head.

_There will be no second chance. This is it._

Mia's lips crashed against his, this time of their own accord. The captain's arm hooked around her middle as he lowered her gently to the bed. He was going to give this final moment his all... all because of the words that wandered through his mind.

_This is the last time._


	44. Unhooked

Life is full of juxtapositions. Mia had heard that once, though she could not recall the source of the quote. She had lost all equilibrium the way one does when intoxicated. But this was not intoxication. This was despair mixed with so many other feelings – sorrow, anger, passion, lust, hate, fear, love – all intermingling to create a heady concoction that stripped her of all sense of surroundings.

As the gray light of a new dawn shown through the large windows, Mia wondered if what they were doing could truly be considered making love or if it was just a mere act of desperation between two hopeless souls. There were so many emotions rising within the cabin – more emotions, it seemed, than was possible to pass between two people – that perchance it was neither. Maybe this was something altogether different.

_It isn't fair,_ thought Hook.

Why did he have to be tortured in this manner? Why did it have to be such a disaster of pain and emotions? It would be so much easier if he didn't have them, if they could just be stripped away and make him feel absolutely nothing inside. But to remove those feelings would be to remove what little remained of his decaying, imprisoned soul. While he served Maleficent, he still had his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own desires. To watch the beautiful young creature beneath him give herself up to a mix of despair and desire made his heart ache and desire her all the more. To think that someone so young, so pure, so kind could have ever loved a despicable wretch like himself. Never again. Never again.

In the midst of their passion, neither Mia nor Hook noticed the curious behavior of the two black parrots contained within the iron cage at the other side of the cabin. The sheet lay at the floor beneath the cage, where it had fallen when Mia had thrown her phone at it. Now, the two birds sat with their heads tilted, their green eyes glowing unusually bright.

Far away in a distant land, a figure sat in a dusky throne room, wearing the darkness like a shroud. A graceful, long-fingered hand, pale in color, stroked the oily black feathers of a raven perched upon the arm of the throne. The raven's glowing green eyes shown like emeralds in the shadows. Their light penetrated the darkness like two laser points, which widened the further they reached, ending in a hovering projection of the Jolly Roger's cabin.

"Interesting... Very interesting," drawled a cruel, feminine voice.

"I beg your forgiveness, Mistress," spoke a man's voice from the shadows, "But should we not be concerned about this? After all, if Hook has developed feelings for the girl, might he not betray us?"

The long, feminine fingers continued to caress the raven as the magical projection continued to play. "James Hook has not the will to defy me. He belongs to me, and soon enough, the same will be true of the girl. In fact, this is a fortuitous situation. James Hook could very well be the key we need to unlock the darkness in her heart. As long as the girl feels for Hook, and as long as Hook plays by my rules, the girl's cooperation may be far more easily obtained than originally anticipated."

Hook had no inkling that their actions were being surveyed. The wicked, green-eyed parrots merely sat quietly in their cage, allowing their vile mistress to have a voyeur's eye view of the passion between her servant and her would-be captive. Unaware of Maleficent's peering gaze, James and Miandra maintained their passionate embrace, loving one another, giving themselves to this moment of bliss, until the sounds of a bell rang out on deck and panicked footsteps hurried to the cabin door.

The door flew open and a wide-eyed Smee stumbled in. "Cap'n! Cap'n!"

"Knock, damn you, knock!" roared Hook.

Smee scurried back out the door, closing it behind him. A second later, there came a knock and Smee bounded in once more.

"Cap'n! There's a ship! It came upon us in the fog and caught us completely unawares!"

"THEN DEAL WITH IT!"

"B-But Cap'n..."

"OUT!" Hook roared, lobbing a pillow at his bosun, who closed the door before the pillow could find its mark.

"A... A ship?" gasped Mia.

_A ship!_ Could it perhaps belong to one of the Allied Kingdoms? Had a rescue party come for her? Then, on the other hand, couldn't it also be other pirates? Enemies they should be concerned about?

"C-Captain... A ship... Shouldn't we be concerned?"

"No. Let them come! My men will deal with this... or perhaps they won't. Either way, I shall not be denied!"

What was he saying? Was he so lost to passion that he didn't care if his ship was attacked? Or... was there a part of him that _wanted_ the Jolly Roger to be sunk? One way or another, Hook would not stop in the pursuit of his final conquest.

"B-But what if they—"

An explosion rocked the Jolly Roger as a cannon ball struck its hull. Debris from the wooden crossbeams above rained down upon their heads. Mia cried out in fear, and yet still Hook embraced her, held her, kissed her. Like a man possessed, he continued to stake his claim.

Mia's eyes shifted away from him in a panic.

"Oh my God! H-Hook, w-we should—"

"No! Look at me!" he shouted over the noise, grabbing her chin and turning her gaze back to his. "Not even the hounds of hell could tear me away from you now, Miandra! I will finish with you... I will love you... for this will be the last time, and I'll not have it stolen from me!"

And thus, Mia was not granted the luxury of sensible panic as his lips lay claim to hers. Return fire from the Jolly Roger resounded throughout the ship, and the vessel shook with the discharge. Mia wanted to panic, but Hook's actions were full of such desperation and, dare she believe it, love, that she forced herself to ignore it as he did and bask in the glow of his passion. For he was right; this would most surely be the last time.

Mia was beginning to understand. Hook, despite his unwillingness (or was it inability?) to defy Maleficent's wishes, regretted what he had to do. He regretted having to relinquish Mia to the wicked sorceress. And perhaps... perhaps this was his way of truly being with her one last time, and in his desperation, he was going to make love to her even in the midst of battle.

Did this mean she meant more to him than his own ship? His own life? He wasn't willing to risk his life before, but now, with this battle at sea, now that he had an 'out,' so to speak, perhaps this was his way of taking it. It was darkly romantic in a way, and it made Mia's heart swell. But she also couldn't help thinking of the repercussions, particularly as chain shot blasted through the cabin wall, sending splinters and glass shards all around. Mia screamed, but Hook swiftly silenced her with rough kisses that took her breath away and diverted her attention from the havoc surrounding them.

The Jolly Roger didn't matter. His crew didn't matter. His life... it didn't matter. All that mattered was sharing this final moment with this beautiful, precious young woman. This was all he had. This was the last moment he could have with her before it would all end. After this, Mia would no longer be his. It was a pain he did not wish to bear, at least not before giving himself, all of himself, to her one final time.

Why? Why did he have to relinquish his greatest treasure? How much silver, gold and precious gems had he pillaged over his many, many years of serving as captain of the Jolly Roger? And none of it was worth as much as this girl. He knew now – man's greatest treasure was to love, and to be loved in return. But never again. This was fate. This was the end.

_Miandra... I'm sorry._

Gunfire raked across the deck outside as they reached their final crescendo, and when it was done, Hook held her against him. But only for a moment. Two slow, strong breaths were all he needed before, wordlessly, he withdrew from her, leaving her with a feeling of loneliness so pervasive and acute that she feared she might die from it.

Hook kept his back to the girl as he redressed and reattached his steel namesake. He was determined not to look at her. For if he glanced over his shoulder at her one last time, he might well lose his resolve. And that was something he must keep at all costs. It was time, not to be the lover of Miandra Mercurial, but the captain of the Jolly Roger once more.

The battle outside was raging fierce. If this fight was to be won, time was of the essence. Armed to the teeth, he was just going for the door when she stopped him.

"JAMES!" Her beautiful voice rang out over the gunfire and raining chain shot.

Hook turned and Mia ran to him, stumbling into his arms over the chain that kept her tethered. One last time, he held her. One last time, she gazed at him with tear-filled eyes. One last time, their lips met in a long, deep, sweet, heated embrace that he'd keep with him forever. Her hands moved down his bare torso beneath his coat, caressing him tenderly before settling upon his waist and hips. Then, she withdrew from him.

"Don't die," she whispered. It was nearly impossible to hear her over the noise of the battle, but her lips were easy enough to read.

Hook's gaze lingered on her, studying every detail of her face, possibly for the last time. Finally, with a small smirk, he turned wordlessly away and stepped out on deck. Gunfire and grapeshot rained down like explosive hail upon the deck. Cannon fire blasted the hull. Two vessels, the Jolly Roger and one flying Vandsgaard's flag, were in the thick of battle. And the Jolly Roger was much the worse for it. They had suffered greatly from the absence of their captain. But he was here now.

"RUN OUT LONG TOM!" he shouted.

As Hook's men rolled out the big guns, more cannon fire from the Vandsgaard ship sent them careening backwards. The swell of the waves rocked the Jolly Roger, causing it to heel to port and sending Long Tom rolling backwards, breaking through the bulwarks and plummeting into the water.

"BRIMSTONE AND GALL!"

"Looks like you could use some help."

Hook spun around to face the very thing he feared more than the battle raging before him.

"Ursula!"

There she was, in all her tentacled glory, leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck.

"Did you miss me, sweet cakes?"

"Now isn't a good time," said Hook, ducking as more chain shot passed over his head. He drew his pistol from his belt and fired it across the gap between the ships, hitting one of Vandsgaard's gunners and sending him careening head over heels off the deck of the ship.

"On the contrary, I think it's perfect timing on my part. It looks like you need an assist."

"Damn it, Ursula," Hook snapped, spinning towards her. "You know I can bloody well fight my own battles!"

Alone in the cabin, Mia opened her hand to reveal the key she'd snuck out of Hook's pocket when she kissed him – the key to her fetter. She quickly went to work on her restraint, trying to ignore the sounds of the battle raging outside and trying to keep her hand steady in spite of the violent rocking of the ship as she slipped the key into the lock and turned. The fetter released with a pop.

Mia redressed herself, pausing only once to grab something off the charting table – the magical compass that showed the way to Neverland. Looping the chain around her neck, Mia let it hang over her chest as she darted for the window just as a cannonball struck the ship. Mia screamed and threw herself to the floor as the cannonball sailed through the cabin, sending chunks of wood from the ceiling raining down on her.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The cannon fire, the projectiles tearing through the cabin. Every head aboard the Jolly Roger turned to gaze in horror and dismay at the ruins of the captain's cabin, knowing surely what it must mean.

"NO!" Hook shouted. "MIA!"

Ursula spun towards him. "What?!"

Hook abandoned his crew as he ran for the cabin. With a snap of her fingers, Ursula transformed and followed closely behind on two legs.

As the dust and debris settled, Mia slowly lifted herself onto her hands and knees to inspect the damage. The cabin was in ruins, the furniture destroyed. Miraculously, the only things that remained intact were Hook's harpsichord and Mia's paintings, although they had fallen off the walls. There was something else. A strange hissing sound. Mia's gaze followed the noise.

A small, dark chest had fallen off one of Hook's many shelves. Mia remembered this chest. It was the same one she'd seen Hook carrying her third day aboard the Jolly Roger; the day he'd intended to do battle with Peter Pan. It had snapped open from the fall, its single content spilling out.

It was what looked like a small cannonball, bigger than a baseball but smaller than a basketball. It had cracked upon impact and was now making a strange hissing sound as a green mist rose from within it. Mia's eyes went wide. What was it? Some type of grenade? Hadn't she seen grenades do that in movies when someone accidentally pulled the out the pin?

But the one thing grenades generally did not do was leak a supernatural green mist. What was this? A toxic gas? Mia watched in horror as the smoke slowly rose and floated towards her. She tried to hold her breath, but it was too late. She already breathed some in. Curiously, she neither coughed nor choked, and the green smoke was entirely scentless. However, she was beginning to feel lightheaded and a little ill. Reaching out her leg, Mia kicked the small cannonball away from her. It rolled a little ways before coming to a stop. Mia watched as the rest of the green mist floated out the broken window.

Hook raced inside his cabin, only to find it in total devastation. His charting table, the easels and paintings, and his bed were destroyed. All that remained of the cage which contained the black parrots was a pile of twisted metal and a green, acidic smudge with black feathers burning a hole through the floor. But none of that mattered to Hook. All that mattered was...

"Miandra? MIANDRA!"

With this much devastation, she surely must be dead. Considering he'd left her chained to his bed, which had been blasted to pieces, there was no way the girl could have survived. Sheer, unadulterated despair washed over him. He clutched at his heart, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

_No... No! Oh, please no!_

But as his eyes swept the room once more, he managed to take in further details. The fetter at the end of the chain was lying open on the floor, and beside it, a key. Hook reached into his jacket pockets, finding them empty. The clever vixen had stolen the key when she'd kissed him. But just where was his little fox?

As the dust cleared, he saw her, crouched in the open window at the back of his cabin. Although a trickle of blood ran from a cut on her forehead, and more from a slightly deeper wound in her arm, the girl was alive. She was dressed in her white shift, abandoning all clothes, gifts and everything else that he'd given her in exchange for her simple, wild, Lost Girl attire. The vines which made up her belt were still a vibrant green, but the flowers, which had once been bright blue forget-me-nots, were now black and withered, which seemed to parallel the sensation Hook felt in his chest. He didn't want to lose her, but neither would he stop her from escaping.

"IT'S HER!" shouted Ursula, shoving Hook aside. "DAMN IT, JAMES! YOU HAD HER THE ENTIRE TIME!"

In a rage, Ursula transformed into her cephalopodic form and crawled quickly across the cabin like a possessed monster. Mia froze in horror as the pale, pasty body and eight writhing black appendages came for her. Her eyes met Ursula's, drowning in their blazing fury. The sea witch's ruby red lips twisted into a wicked, snarling grin. Mia couldn't move. Unadulterated terror had stolen her ability to do anything but watch as her grim fate came at her on eight legs.

Hook quickly surveyed the crumbling woodwork around him. His eyes fell upon a bent column, held together by just a few splinters, and followed its trajectory to a support beam which ran along what remained of the roof of the cabin. He kicked at the column, sending the beam crashing down into the cabin, separating Mia from Ursula, and halting the Sea Witch in her tracks. Her senses having returned to her, Mia spared the captain one last wistful look. Then, she leapt out the window and dove into the waters below.

"NO!" Ursula shouted. She returned to her human form in an attempt to squeeze past the obstruction, but by the time she'd gotten through, it was too late.

Hook joined her near the window. "She's gone," he said tonelessly.

Ursula spun on her heel to face him "Damn it, James!" she shouted before shoving him aside once more and running out on deck.

Hook leaned towards the window, trying desperately to see out. But there was too much debris in his way. He couldn't even watch the girl flee. He would have liked to have seen her one last time. But alas...

"Godspeed, Miandra Mercurial," he said softly.

Hook turned away from the window and found his hat with the feathered plume laying among the debris. Dusting it off, he set it upon his head. If he was to go down with his ship, at the very least he would look his best doing it. After all, he was James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger, and good form must always be observed.

~~~

Mia cut through the water like a fish, grateful to her parents for insisting on swim lessons when she was little. Her head pounded from the noise of the cannon fire and from the shallow cut at her temple. The wound in her arm was ablaze with pain, and yet she still swam for the enemy ship, not caring who they may be, only that if they were Hook's enemies, then they were enemies of the Dark Ones, and therefore her one chance at salvation.

She was just nearing the ship, almost within reaching distance of its hull when something wrapped around her ankle and she was yanked beneath the water. Mia's eyes went wide at what had grabbed her. Wrapped tightly around her left ankle was the tail of an eel. A second one was slowly circling her, eyeing her up with large, mismatched eyes – one which glowed green, the other dull in color. The only thing which kept her from screaming was the knowledge that to do so would result in drowning.

"My, my my... What a pretty little human..."

They spoke! Perhaps this shouldn't surprise her, but she never thought they'd truly be able to speak, or at least she would have thought them incapable of communicating with a human.

"This is the one Madam Ursula has been searching for..."

"And she's fallen right into our clutches..."

The one circling her brushed against her cheek and she winced. He was slimy and gross. Worst of all, eels were like nautical snakes... and Mia hated snakes! Furthermore, even for eels they were alarmingly huge!

Mia struggled, trying to pry her ankle out of the one's grasp, but he had a tight hold. She tried kicking at his face, but he snapped at her with his razor-sharp teeth. It was just a warning snap, but Mia knew if she got too feisty, they wouldn't hesitate to really bite.

The second one continued to encircle her midsection, taking delight in running his long, flat, slimy body against her. Mia's skin broke out in goosebumps. But worse, she was running out of air. An expulsion of bubbles erupted from her nostrils as she worked harder at holding her breath. Her lungs were burning, her head throbbing dizzily.

"Such funny faces she makes. What is she doing?"

"I think she's... What do they call it on the surface? Oh yes... drowning."

"Drowning... Will that kill her?"

"I don't know. Maybe..."

Mia nodded vigorously, hoping perhaps this knowledge would compel them to release her.

"It would be bad if she died..."

"Madam Ursula wants her alive..."

"What should we do?"

"If only Madam Ursula were here, she could turn the girl into a fish."

"Release her!"

The voice which spoke was deep, booming, commanding, and impossibly loud for beneath water. Mia's gaze, which was slowly beginning to grow dark at the edges, moved towards the voice. There, floating before her was a man of godlike proportions. Above the waist, he was a mighty specimen of man with rippling muscles and long flowing hair and matching beard. He was, in a word, mighty to behold. He almost reminded her of Marvel's Thor, if not for the fact this man's hair was white, _and_ the fact that his lower half was that of a fish.

"King Triton!" gasped the eels, looking panicked.

The king of the merpeople pointed his gold trident at them. With a cry of fright, the eels took off, swimming as fast as their tails could carry them. King Triton sent a blast of energy after them for good measure.

_Cool..._ Mia thought dreamily as darkness began to overtake her.

"Miandra!"

She felt herself gathered in a pair of strong arms and rocketed up to the surface. A giant waterspout carried King Triton onto the deck of the Vandsgaard ship. As he landed on deck, his tail became a pair of legs. An aquamarine fishnet skirt covered in starfish and seashells hung from a gilded armored belt around his waist. Mia had no time to appreciate aesthetics, however. She was too busy coughing and choking up water. She felt sick and lightheaded... and weary. So very weary.

The ship was in a state of chaos. Sailors were running about the deck, loading their cannons and firing their guns at the Jolly Roger. But upon Triton's arrival, a few of the crewmen stopped and glanced his way.

"King Triton!"

"Hurry, take her!" he ordered, passing Mia into their arms.

"Who is she?"

Triton crossed his arms, glaring at them as though they were simpletons. "This is who you've been searching for."

"This is Miandra Mercurial? Are you certain?"

"Yes. I felt her power. It is the same power I have felt in her father. Call on your captain. I would have a word with him."

"Your highness!"

But these words were not spoken to Triton. Instead, they were directed at a younger, dark-haired man running towards them across the deck.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's happened? We have the pirates on the ropes, but I'm afraid if they board our ship, we'll be in dire straits ourselves." He hesitated, glancing from his men, to the girl in their arms, to King Triton.

"It's her, Eric."

"Miandra?" he asked, glancing at the girl's lifeless form. "Is she..."

"Unconscious and wounded, but very much alive."

"Thank God! To think, she'd been on Hook's ship this whole time!"

"Eric," said Triton, placing a large hand on his son-in-law's shoulder, "You must disengage from this battle and head back to Vandsgaard. The Dreamfinder's daughter is priority one."

"Of course! But if we disengage and turn our backs to the Jolly Roger now, the pirates will—"

"Leave them to me. I'll hold them at bay."

"You're certain?"

Triton grinned at Eric. "If I do not do this, I will have a very angry daughter on my hands who will accuse me of not protecting her husband."

"Do you often follow me at sea?" asked Eric, surprised.

"I do what is necessary to keep you out of trouble, boy."

Eric grinned back at him before turning to his crew. "DISENGAGE! TURN ABOUT!" Then, to the men standing nearest to him. "Take Miandra to my cabin. See that her wounds are treated and that she's made comfortable."

~~~

Back on the deck of the Jolly Roger, the pirates were losing the battle. With both the fore and aft masts taken out and Long Tom sunk to the bottom of the sea, they were at a great disadvantage. Their only chance at victory was to board the Vandsgaard ship. And even then, victory was not so assured. But to their surprise, at the pivotal moment, the Vandsgaardian ship disengaged from battle.

"Captain! They're retreating!" shouted Starkey.

"Very well," said Hook, who could easily guess the reason for Vandsgaard's hasty retreat when they had the Jolly Roger on the defenses. "Let them go."

"What are you doing?!" roared Ursula. "Go after them!"

"My dear madam!" Hook said, spinning towards her. "Do tell me how you expect me to chase them down without my fore and aft masts? We should count ourselves lucky they chose not to sink us!"

"But the girl! The girl is getting away!"

"Then," said Hook simply, "It is too late."

Ursula glared at him. "I should've handled it from the get-go." She turned to face the retreating ship and brought her fingers to her lips, but Hook grabbed her arm and swiftly lowered it before she could whistle.

"Are you crazy? The girl's on that ship! If you call that ruddy monster of yours, she'll be killed! How would you like to explain that to Maleficent?"

Ursula yanked her arm from his grasp. "How would _you_ like to explain to Maleficent how you let the girl get away?"

"What would you suggest I do?" asked Hook exasperatedly, making a sweeping motion with his arm to show that the Jolly Roger was in no shape to be chasing after naval ships. "She's barely seaworthy now!"

Ursula grit her teeth as she stood at the bulwarks. "Very well," she growled, transforming back into her cephalopodic form. "I'll go after the little tramp myself!"

But just as she moved to leap over the bulwarks, a figure appeared at the stern of the retreating ship. A figure she knew and hated with every fiber of her being.

"Triton..." she growled.

The king of the merfolk stood atop the ship's cabin, facing the Jolly Roger. He pointed his three-pronged staff at the water in front of the pirate ship and golden streams of light shot forth. Then, from out of the water, a forest of coral rose up like a giant wall, providing a blockade against any attempts by the Jolly Roger to either pursue them or fire on them. It was much too high even for Ursula to leap over. The sea witch rushed to the bow of the ship, seeking to leap into the water in pursuit, only to realize just how expansive the coral blockage was. It would take her hours just to navigate around the reef!

"DAMN YOU, TRITON!" she cursed.

Hook walked to the back of the ship and gazed out to sea. Mia was beyond his reach. And perhaps... perhaps it was better that way. With a sigh, he took off his hat and tossed it out into the ocean. Then, he slumped onto the steps of the quarterdeck and buried his face in his hands.

It was over.

A shadow loomed over him, blotting out the sun. A long, black tentacle slid beneath his chin and tilted his head up to gaze into Ursula's lavender face. Her eyes blazed with fury.

"You, my sweet little angelfish... are going to have a lot of explaining to do when we meet with the Dark Mistress."

"Yes," he said, his eyes as distant as the girl he loved. "I know."


	45. The Compassion of Vandsgaard

Mia awoke, feeling feverish, but otherwise better than she'd last remembered. She'd had such a strange dream... about giant eels and a mighty merman with a golden scepter. Though now, she was wondering if it might not have been a dream after all. Her wounds were freshly dressed, and her surroundings were new and unfamiliar. Gentle blues and golds adorned the room in which she lay, a stark contrast from Hook's crimsons and scarlet, evoking thoughts of a naval officer's cabin rather than that of a pirate. All was quiet, peaceful. No gun fire or cannon blasts. Only the sound of waves lapping gently at the hull of a ship... and a strange panting sound to her left.

Slowly, Mia turned her head and came face to face with a large, shaggy sheepdog grinning happily up at her from the bedside.

"Oh... um... h-hello there."

The sheepdog let out a happy bark and trailed a large, slobbery tongue up her cheek. He seemed content to lap at her face until the door opened and two gentlemen entered the cabin. One was an older gentleman dressed in a gray coat with his hair pulled back in a short ponytail. But it was the other who made the greater impression. He was a handsome young man and somehow familiar, with eyes as blue as the sea and short, wavy black hair. He wore a white, open-collared, loose-fitting shirt and blue form-fitting breeches with high black boots.

"Max... C'mon, boy. Leave the poor girl alone, will you? She's been through enough already. C'mere."

The dog glanced at the handsome man, gave Mia one more lick for good measure, and then bounded towards his master. The man ruffled the dog's fur before approaching the bed where Mia lay.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," he told her. "You had us scared there for a while."

Mia tried to sit up, but she moved a little too quickly. She winced, bringing a hand to her bandaged arm. "Where am I? How did I get here? I-I had this weird dream. There were these talking eels and a merman with a..." She trailed off as realization dawned on her.

"That wasn't a dream," said the handsome man, who looked as though he may only be a few years older than Mia herself. On his face, Mia could see unkempt stubble, the sort worn by men who have been at sea for quite a while. "That merman was my father-in-law, King Triton. I hate to imagine what might have happened to you if it weren't for him."

"Your father-in-law..." said Mia slowly. "Then that must mean you're—"

"Eric Justesen de Vand... or simply Eric, King of Vandsgaard," he said, bowing his head to her. "At your service."

Mia's jaw dropped. For a moment, she was entirely speechless.

"Um... Are you all right, Miss Mercurial?"

"Oh! Y-Yeah. Sorry. It's just that I've never met a king before," she gushed. "You're my first. And actually meeting you in person as opposed to as a cartoon on a television screen is really... Well, you know..."

Eric laughed. "My father-in-law was right. You are most assuredly Miandra Mercurial. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. You certainly seem to be doing better than yesterday."

"I agree," said the man standing nearby. "Although, I'd say, judging from the hue of your face, you're still somewhat feverish."

"This is Dr. Hansel Fennsen," said Eric, motioning to the older gentleman. "He dressed your wounds and will be tending to you for the remainder of our voyage. Don't worry," he assured her. "Dr. Fennsen is the best ship's medic I've ever known."

Dr. Fennsen placed a hand over his chest and bowed to Eric. "You're too kind, highness."

Not to be left out, the sheepdog gave a couple barks and placed his two shaggy front paws onto the bed.

"And this handsome devil is Max," said Eric. "He's been keeping a vigilant eye on you."

Mia smiled and patted the dog on the head. "Aww... Thanks, Max," she cooed. As she continued to stroke the shaggy sheepdog, she gazed up at Eric. "You rescued me," she said tremulously, "Thank you. Ariel must have told you, right? I met her on Neverland. She said she was visiting extended family. I guess the Neverland mermaids are her cousins or something?"

"Right... _Them_ ," said Eric with a hint of disdain in his tone. "I really don't know why she insists on reconnecting with _those_ outcasts. They're a whole heap of trouble. Even her father has nothing to do with them. But I digress," he said shaking his head and offering Mia another smile. "Yes, Ariel told me she found you on Neverland."

"Then you guys really _were_ looking for me, weren't you?" asked Mia, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"We were indeed. I suppose that's the one good thing to come out of Ariel visiting those malcontented cousins of hers. When she told me where you were, I gathered my best crew and set out immediately."

"You mean... you really gathered an entire ship's crew to come look for me?"

Eric smiled and nodded.

"W-Wow. A king and his navy coming to look for someone like me? That's just... wow." Mia was embarrassed to discover tears forming in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. She was moved by his kindness.

"Someone like you? You're hardly insignificant, Miandra," said Eric, taking a seat on the bed beside her. "You're the Dreamfinder's daughter. Blair Mercurial and Cerenopia are Vangaard's fiercest, most loyal allies. Naturally, we all pulled together to search for you."

Mia blushed and averted her gaze. It was so strange. Once upon a time she was just a regular girl from Earth. No one special. Just an average college student. Now she was a figure recognized by her favorite Disney characters; princes and princesses, kings and queens. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

"We were able to find Neverland thanks to my wife's underwater connections. Unfortunately, when we arrived, you were already gone. We feared the worst, but didn't know how to locate you. It was an act of sheer providence that we encountered the Jolly Roger." Eric leaned closer, an expression of concern etched across his face. "Just how _did_ you wind up aboard Hook's ship?"

Mia swallowed and lowered her gaze. "H-He kidnapped me as bait to lure Peter into a trap... because Peter and I were... um... friends. But... but Peter never came."

Her eyes filled with more tears. Why? Surely she should be over Peter by now. And yet it still hurt. The pain of his forgetting her had not passed. Instead, it was just one heartache piled atop another.

"S-So then... so then Hook just... he just kept me."

How much should she tell? Should she tell Eric that a romance, however briefly, had sparked between her and the wicked pirate captain? No, certainly not. What would he think of her then? She must keep her fraternizations with James Hook a secret... from everyone.

Eric's eyes narrowed. He didn't even want to contemplate the reasons Hook would want to keep Miandra aboard his ship. It could only be for the vilest of purposes. He could only hope that Miandra had been left unspoiled. But there was no tactful way to ask, so he ultimately decided not to.

"Wait!" cried Mia. "What about the Jolly Roger? D-Did you sink it? Is Hook... Is he..." She swallowed the end of her sentence, unable to finish it.

Eric exchanged a look with Dr. Fennsen. "Well... no. We disabled the Jolly Roger, but finding you was our top priority. The moment we realized we had you aboard, we ceased our attack on Hook's ship and fled. But don't worry; with the damage we inflicted, Hook won't be coming after your or anyone else any time soon."

Mia tried not to show too much relief at the revelation that Hook was not dead. She skewed her face into something she hoped resembled a look of dismay over this news. With luck, perhaps Eric would interpret any relief that _did_ show in her expression as relief that Hook was at least defeated in some capacity. But now that the heat of battle and the threat of delivery to Maleficent was over, other unhappy thoughts crept into her mind.

Peter had forgotten her. And Hook, despite how he may attest to feeling about her, had betrayed her. He'd intended to deliver her to Maleficent. Everything he'd meant to her, all that he'd done for her to help her grow her confidence; buying her paints, making her read her stories aloud, making love to her... It was all for naught. Between she and Maleficent, Hook would always choose the Dark Mistress over Miandra Mercurial. In such a short span of time, Mia had her heart broken not once, but twice, by two different people.

Misinterpreting her heartbreak, Eric gently placed his hand over hers. "You're safe now, Miandra," he said softly. "We're going to get you home. I promise."

Wracked with these turbulent emotions on top of Eric's kindness and reassurances, Mia burst into tears and leaned into his shoulder, sobbing. Eric shot a panicked looked at Dr. Fennsen, but the doctor merely shook his head pityingly. With a soft sigh, the king of Vandsgaard wrapped his arms around the girl, letting her know she was safe.

"Shh, shh. Hey... come on. It's okay, Miandra," he said, petting her head. "Everything is going to be fine. You don't need to be scared anymore."

Eric was so warm and kind, like so many people she'd met on Dizgaia. It almost made up for everything bad that had happened. Almost, but not quite. Mia knew right now she must seem like a child in need of comforting, and she was horribly embarrassed by it. But she couldn't help it.

"No doubt Professor Mercurial will be relieved to hear that his daughter has been found unharmed," said Dr. Fennsen. "It shouldn't be more than a day or two before we arrive on Vandsgaard shores."

These were the last words Mia heard. Everything else was drowned out by the sound of her own sobs and the pounding in her head. Her fever raged fiercely as finally the king lowered her to the bed and drew the blankets over her. The last thing she saw was his face, now hazy and somewhat blurred, gazing down at her in concern before the fever claimed her.

~~~

Mia did not remember much of the following two days. She recalled Dr. Fennsen tending to her, and when her fever gave her the chills, Max slept next to her in bed, his thick shaggy fur keeping her warm and helping her fever to break. Eric made frequent visits to check on her, but as she remained in his bed for the duration of the voyage, she did not know where the king slept. Perhaps he stayed down in the forecastle with the rest of the sailors, like a commoner.

Miandra was moved by his selflessness. For every villain in Dizgaia, there seemed to be a prince or princess who defied the expectations of their station and put someone else's needs – in this case, Mia's – before their own. In all her time on Earth, Mia had never met anyone so compassionate and giving of themselves than the friends she'd made in Dizgaia.

Finally, the day had come when the ship docked on the shores of Vandsgaard. Mia, over the worst of her illness, was escorted down the gangplank by Dr. Fennsen, a true gentleman in every sense of the word, with Eric leading them. They traversed up a winding stone staircase to a beautiful alabaster castle that, to Mia, almost resembled a giant sandcastle, half embedded in the side of a cliff and whose foundation seemed to rise up right out of the shallow waters below.

A row of soldiers saluted them as the doors to the castle were opened and Mia followed Eric into a vast antechamber. At the top of a grand, carpeted staircase, Ariel, dressed in a shimmering gown of aqua-marine, awaited them. As they entered, she ran down the staircase, her long crimson mane flying prettily behind her as he threw herself into her husband's arms.

"Eric! Thank the ancients! When I'd heard your ship engaged the Jolly Roger in battle, I feared the worst!"

"It all turned out for the best, Ariel. We got the drop on them in the thick of a fog. We were victorious and our casualties were minimal. Though, we never expected to find a very valuable passenger." Eric stepped aside to reveal Miandra standing behind him.

"Miandra!" Ariel exclaimed, taking both Mia's hands in hers. "Your father will be _so_ relieved!" She gave her husband a proud smile. "I'm so glad you found her! Now I can tell Father that Plan B won't be necessary."

"I'm pretty sure he already knows, Ariel," said Eric.

"What do you mean?"

"He showed up during the battle and rescued Miandra from Ursula's mangy pets."

"Ursula was there?!" exclaimed Ariel, her expression darkening.

"Don't worry. Your father handled everything." Eric crossed his arm and arched an eyebrow as he looked at his wife. "Are you aware that he follows me at sea?"

Ariel averted her gaze and chewed her lip, looking rather sheepish. "Well, that _might_ have something to do with a request I made of him."

"You _told_ him to follow me?" asked Eric, incredulous.

"I _asked_ him to follow you."

"Ariel," he sighed. "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself."

"Against Hook _and_ Ursula?"

"Well... all right. Maybe this time his presence _was_ rather useful. I just wish you'd have more faith in me."

"It's not that I don't have faith in you, honey," said Ariel, placing a tender hand against his stubbly cheek. "I just want to keep you safe, since I can't accompany you myself."

"Someone has to keep Vandsgaard up and running while I'm away, dear," said Eric, placing his hand gently over hers.

"I know. Which is why I asked father to keep an eye on you."

"But doesn't _he_ have a kingdom to run as well?"

"It's not bad for him to travel once in a while. And it's good for Attina to get some real experience ruling Atlantica. She's the heir apparent, after all."

"Um," said Mia, interjecting. "What was plan B?"

"Oh, that," said Ariel. "Well, in the event that Eric was unable to locate you, my father would have accompanied me to Neverland and turned you into a mermaid so you could swim home with us."

Mia gaped at her. "T-Turn me into a mermaid?"

"Only temporarily, of course," Ariel assured her. "But it seems that wouldn't have worked out after all, seeing as you were no longer on Neverland. How did you end up on Hook's ship?"

"K-Kidnapped," Mia stammered, feeling close to tears but doing her best to suppress them.

Ariel nodded, as though she figured as much. "I was afraid of that. The Dark Ones have been increasingly active, as of late. It seems your presence has awoken them into action." She leaned towards Mia, her expression grave. "Did he know who you were?"

"N-Not at first," Mia stammered, lowering her gaze and feeling very much like she'd rather talk about something else, _anything_ else. "But he figured it out."

Ariel's expression was one-half panic and one-half relief. "Thank goodness Eric found you when he did! I hate to imagine what would've happened if..." She trailed off and shook her head, unable to complete the thought. "Well, all that matters is that you're all right. _Both_ of you," she said, throwing her arms around her husband once more.

Eric embraced her, kissing her passionately. Mia averted her gaze. This time, try as she might, she couldn't stop the tears from coming. She'd been kissed like that before. It had only been a few days, but it already felt like a lifetime ago. Her memories seemed more like a dream now. She was pretty certain she'd never be kissed like that again.

Why did she have to be such a late bloomer? If she'd at least had a boyfriend back on Earth, if she'd dated in high school, the necessary experience of a breakup and subsequent heartache might have prepared her for Peter's abandonment and Hook's betrayal. Then again, perhaps not. Nothing could compare to a romance with Peter Pan or Captain Hook. Mia tried to stop the tears, but they continued to fall in spite of her efforts.

Taking notice of Mia's demeanor, Dr. Fennsen cleared his throat. "Um... If I may, your highnesses... I'm still concerned for Miss Mercurial's well-being. May I suggest giving her a room so she can rest? I'm certain she's exhausted from her very trying experience, and I fear she may relapse into illness."

"Of course," said Ariel. "Come on, Miandra. Follow me." She led Mia up the grand, carpeted staircase. "First, let's see to getting you cleaned up. I bet a nice hot bubble bath is just what you need right now."

Several minutes later, Mia was stripped out of her white shift and sitting in a large porcelain bathtub shaped like a golden seashell. This had to be the most luxurious bath she'd ever taken. The tub was filled to the brim with large, scented bubbles. Ariel knelt down beside the tub and gently doused Mia's hair with water.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, your highness," said a portly servant woman in a red dress and apron as she carried a pile of warm, fresh towels into the bathroom. "I'd be happy to bathe the young miss."

Mia flushed. Why did these two women feel the need to bathe her anyway? Surely, she could bathe herself. It was enough to make any young woman bashful. Although, it wasn't as if she had anything these women hadn't seen before.

"It's quite all right," said Ariel. "I don't mind. Really. You may leave us, Carlotta. I'll take care of Miandra."

"She's right," said Mia, once the servant had left and Ariel began washing her hair with expensive shampoos. "You shouldn't have to do this. You're the queen. I could just, you know, do it myself."

Ariel offered her a warm smile. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Miandra. We're both women here. And besides, you've been through a lot. Please... It would mean a great deal to me if you let me help you."

"A-All right. I guess so."

"I'm going to take good care of you, just like Eric and his servants took care of me when I most needed it. I can't pretend to truly know what it is you've been through, but I know you have a secret. A painful secret."

Mia tensed. How did she know? How could she possibly know?

"A woman always knows, Miandra," said Ariel, as though reading Mia's thoughts. "I won't ask you about it, nor will I share my suspicions with anyone else. Your secret and your feelings are safe with me. You don't have to be afraid."

Mia swallowed, trying hard not to cry. Thankfully the water droplets on her face helped to mask her tears. "Th-Thank you."

Ariel covered Mia's hair in pearly pink shampoo that smelled like a fresh ocean breeze, her fingers pressing a gentle massage into her scalp. Mia had to admit... it felt really nice. Like going to a spa. The Little Mermaid's Aquatic Spa. Mia closed her eyes and smiled softly to herself as Ariel washed her hair.

"You see? A little pampering is just what you need right now. Until we return you to your father, I'll take good care of you, Miandra. Everything's going to be all right."

Mia nodded, not trusting herself to speak for fear it would all tumble out in one great messy heap of emotions. As Ariel scrubbed her back with a soft sponge and rinsed her hair, Mia began to relax, watching dreamily as the scented bubbles floated out of the bath and into the air, each releasing a different pleasing scent as they popped.

After her bath, Ariel provided Mia with a soft, pink nightdress. The fabric was rich with dainty little frills along the trim. It made Mia feel something like a princess, herself. She was then ushered into a grand bedchamber where Ariel sat her down at a vanity and ran a brush through her long hair.

"I never would have gotten a fork through _your_ thick hair," she said with a giggle.

Mia managed a weak smile at Ariel's joke, but she didn't feel very much like laughing. In fact, she found that she didn't really have much to say. Under other circumstances, she'd be so excited to be in the presence of yet another Disney princess that she'd be bubbling with questions to ask her. But at the moment, she felt depressed and hopeless, and very much like she may never laugh again.

But Ariel didn't seem to mind her silence. After brushing Mia's hair, she ushered her to a queen-sized canopy bed, which had to be the comfiest bed Mia had ever laid in. She practically sank right into it.

"There you go, Miandra," said Ariel as she pulled the blankets over her. "Do you need anything? Can I get you something?"

Mia opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a choked sob. She couldn't even speak. Embarrassed and ashamed to be seen in such a state, she rolled over and buried her face into her pillow to hide her tears and muffle her sobs. To her surprise, she felt the mattress shift beneath her, and then a hand trailing gently through her hair, accompanied by a soothing hum.

Ariel's kindness, her tenderness... it was just too much. Mia could not resist its siren's call. She rolled over and rested her head in Ariel's lap and cried. As Ariel caressed Mia's hair, she began to sing.

"Evening is falling  
The sun sinks out of sight  
Sleepiness is calling  
The horizon aglow with the fading light  
With pink and purple hues to sew  
Twilight over an endless sea  
Stars above, stars below  
The sky, the sea in harmony

Sleep now, my child  
As you gently drift off to sleep  
Upon a sea most mild  
May your dreams be ever deep  
With waves gently rocking  
As your ship sails on  
By morning you'll be docking  
Into a bright new dawn."

Soothed by the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard, Mia, despite her dark troubles, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and did not awaken until morning.


	46. Through the Dreamport

"Dream Machine test run number six," a very tired but still very determined Blair Mercurial dictated into a handheld device. "The first five have been unsuccessful at achieving liftoff. Here's hoping all the bugs are finally worked out."

Blair sat in the cockpit of the dirigible, which was parked just outside his home atop Tomorrow Hill, overlooking the city below. Accompanying him was Kevin Flynn, standing beside the dirigible and keeping his feet on the ground, thank-you-very-much. At the young man's shoulder fluttered the Dreamfinder's tiny purple dragon, Figment.

"You sure about this, Prof?" asked Flynn. "After all, it was over a week ago when that Maldonian coast guard logged Neverland's location. Isn't it possible it could have moved since then? You'll be flying blind. And may I remind you I still don't trust this damn thing?"

"You've been abundantly clear on that front, Kevin. But it's run once before, and damned if it won't do it again! As for Neverland... It's the only lead we have. I have to try. At the very least, it's a start."

"Okay, Prof..." said Flynn slowly. "But if something happens to you, this was _your_ idea. Not mine."

"Fair enough, Kevin. Positions, everyone!"

"You got it, Dreamfinder!" shouted Figment, taking off down the hill and out of sight.

Flynn moved towards the front of the dirigible where a single wooden block held it in place, keeping it from sliding down the steep hill. He picked up the long mallet lying beside it and looked at the Dreamfinder.

Blair lowered his goggles over his eyes and gave Flynn a thumbs-up.

"All right..." said Flynn hesitantly. "But remember, I'm doing this under protest." Then, with a flex of his arm muscles, Flynn swung the mallet down towards the wooden block, knocking it out of the way.

There was a loud creaking sound and slowly the dirigible began to move. Gradually, it slid forward, then with increasing speed, kicking up grass and dirt as it went.

"Come on, come on," Blair muttered as he pulled levers and turned dials.

The sound of a motor roared to life, but it had not come from the Dream Machine. Flynn was riding his Light Cycle alongside the sliding dirigible with the top down.

"I'm starting to have a really bad feeling about this!" he shouted to Blair.

"I have to pick up enough speed before lift-off, Flynn."

"And if it doesn't lift off?" shouted Flynn, feeling panicked as they drew ever closer to the brae.

"Then Figment will stop it."

"Figment?!" exclaimed Flynn. "What the heck is _Figment_ going to do?"

"Just let Figment worry about that."

" _I'm_ worried about it!"

The dirigible was picking up speed, but showing no signs of takeoff. It continued down the hill, faster and faster, leaving a trail of dead, flattened grass in its wake.

"Blair, the edge of the hill's getting a little too close for comfort!" shouted Flynn over the rush of wind. "You maybe wanna pull up now?"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

Over the side of the hill, a figure appeared, running up the brae. From afar, it appeared to be a young woman, waving something back and forth in her hand.

"Who is that?" asked Flynn. "She's heading right for us!"

The young woman neared, waving a piece of parchment in her hand, shouting, "Uncle Blair! Uncle Blair!"

"It's Snow!" Blair exclaimed.

"The _princess_?! But what is she doing _here_?"

"Snow!" shouted Blair. "Snow, watch out!" He waved his hand back and forth from side to side in a _get-out-of-the-way_ motion. "Move, move! Please! Look out!"

"Can't you put on the brakes?" shouted Flynn.

"I can't!" Blair cried. "They're jammed!"

"Well, that's a fine mess! What'll we do?"

"I don't know, Kevin! But if she doesn't move soon, she's going to be crushed! And I don't think she can hear me!"

"Damn," Flynn hissed through his teeth as he pushed the Light Cycle faster. With a loud vroom, the cycle picked up speed. Now Flynn was riding alongside the bow of the dirigible. "Faster... come on, faster..." he muttered as he pushed the throttle and managed to pull ahead of the Dream Machine.

Snow had finally come to a halt as though realizing what was happening. She stood in the middle of the sloping field, gaping at the Dream Machine as it rushed towards her.

"PRINCESS!" shouted Flynn. "PRINCESS, MOVE!"

But Snow wasn't budging. It was as though she was transfixed by the sight, frozen in fear of her impending doom.

Gritting his teeth, Flynn pushed the Light Cycle harder. Now he was riding just in front of the Dream Machine. If he slowed, if he hesitated for even a moment or, God forbid, if the cycle hit a rock, he'd be the first to be crushed by the dirigible.

"KEVIN!" Blair shouted.

But Flynn ignored him as he steered the Light Cycle towards the princess. Then, when he deemed himself close enough, Flynn leapt from his bike, throwing himself at Princess Snow and knocking her out of the way. The two went tumbling to the ground as the dirigible struck the Light Cycle, which depixelated on impact and resumed the shape of a white, glowing baton. The Dream Machine rushed past them, continuing on down the hill.

Flynn and Princess Snow lay on the grass, Flynn's arms wrapped protectively around her to cushion her from the fall. Flynn was pretty certain this was the closest he'd ever get to a princess in his life. Something about it was a little exhilarating, but as they both sat up, only three words left his mouth.

"Are you crazy?!" he demanded.

But Snow pushed him off her as she leapt to her feet and ran after the dirigible.

"You're welcome, your highness," Flynn muttered, dusting himself off.

"UNCLE BLAIR!"

Flynn's eyes followed Snow, and then he saw what she saw. The dirigible was heading straight for the edge of the hill without any signs of lifting off. Blair was about to plummet straight off the mountain and into the city below!

"BLAIR!"

Flynn ran after Snow, both of them chasing down the Dream Machine. There was nothing else to be done. Flynn knew he couldn't just stand there watching it happen, but at the same time he knew there wasn't much he or Snow could do.

"UNCLE BLAIR!"

"PROFESSOR!"

The dirigible continued on its dangerous course. The brass-plated steel basket bounced off rocks, jostling the Dreamfinder, who sat in the cockpit pulling levers and flipping switches and doing everything in his power to get the Dream Machine off the ground.

"Come on, come on..." he muttered.

But nothing was working. _Why_ wasn't it working? He'd thought for certain he'd checked every inch of the machine and had ironed out all the bugs. What had he missed? And how could he have missed it? Perhaps it was this whole business with Miandra. He'd been doing all this for her. But could his worry and concern for his only daughter have distracted him from something he might have otherwise seen with a clear head? It was much too late to be mulling over such considerations now. He was out of time as the dirigible neared the edge of the mountain.

"Blast it all, Blair," he cursed himself. "What an absolute, utter failure." Then, shouting above the rush of wind, "FIGMENT! FIGMENT, IT'S TIME FOR PLAN B! I NEED YOU... NOW!"

"You've got it, Dreamfinder," rumbled a mighty voice which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

A large, purple dragon the size of a house arose from the bottom of the mountain. Flapping his mighty wings, the dragon perched onto the edge of the mountain and put out his scaly hands.

The dirigible collided with the giant Figment, who pushed back against it with his thick, powerful arms, pushing and straining, the air escaping his large nostrils in great puffs until finally the Dream Machine screeched to a halt just at the edge of the cliff.

Blair lifted up his goggles and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Phew! That was a little too close for comfort. Good work, Figment!"

"No problem, Dreamfinder!"

Certain that the Dream Machine would stay in place, Figment returned to his natural size in a puff of rainbow-colored smoke.

"Uncle Blair!"

The Dreamfinder hopped down from the dirigible, his coattails flapping in the breeze as Princess Snow ran towards him, Flynn on her heels.

"Snow! Good heavens, I could have killed you, dear! What in the world—"

But he was spared the trouble of further words as Snow waved the piece of parchment at him. A piece of parchment bearing the royal insignia of the King of Vandsgaard.

"They found her!"

~~~

The door to the guest bedroom at the east wing of the castle was slowly pushed open by a large, wet nose. There came the sound of four paws softly padding across the carpet, accompanied by a heavy panting. Mia began to stir as the mattress shifted beneath the weight of a new occupant, but it wasn't until a big, wet, slobbery tongue trailed up the side of her face that she opened her eyes to see the very furry and very happy four-legged beast sitting beside her on the bed.

Mia managed a tired smile. "Hey, Max."

Max licked her again in reply, then once more for good measure. In the corridor beyond, a man's voice called out. "Max? Max! Where have you gotten off to?"

The bedroom door opened the rest of the way as Eric dashed in to retrieve his overly-friendly dog, who was licking Mia incessantly.

"Max! Would you stop? Leave her alone!"

But as the king approached the bed, he hesitated. Mia's arms were wrapped around the large dog and her face buried in his shaggy fur, hugging him tightly. Right now, Max seemed to be taking up the mantle of therapy dog.

Eric brought his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. Miandra had been through a lot. It showed in the set of her body, in every move, every look, every expression. Eric may be the most powerful man in Vandsgaard, but at the moment he felt rather helpless.

"I, uh, hope you slept well, Miandra. I know you've been through a lot and could easily sleep for a week straight. However, Dr. Fennsen wanted to see you for one finale checkup, and Ariel and I were hoping you might join us for breakfast before we send you home."

"Home?" asked Mia, lifting her head from Max's fur.

Eric smiled. "We've contacted the Dreamport technicians in Cerenopia. Whenever you're ready, we'll begin preparations to send you home."

Home! She was going home! Back to her cozy house on Tomorrow Hill. Back to her father, the Dreamfinder. Back to Figment and all her dear friends in Cerenopia. Yes. She was ready to go home.

Although Mia didn't feel much like eating, for she much preferred to go straight home, she didn't want to be rude. Especially after all Eric and Ariel had done for her. Thus, she joined the King and Queen in their regal best for breakfast.

The dining hall was huge with a smooth, glossy floor so shiny she could see her reflection in it. Floor to ceiling windows stretched across one side of the dining hall, overlooking the sea. It was a breathtakingly beautiful view, but Mia found that whenever she looked at the ocean, her heart felt like it was crashing, not so unlike the waves against the rocky beaches of Vandsgaard. And so, she took a seat at the table where she could put her back to the windows.

Eric and Ariel were dressed elegantly, ready to take on the day as King and Queen of Vandsgaard. Mia still wore the pink nightdress Ariel had loaned her, but they didn't seem to mind. Mia tried to eat as much of her breakfast as she could, so as not to be rude. But in the end, she only managed to stomach a little. Neither Eric nor Ariel seemed to take issue with it.

After breakfast, Ariel brushed Mia's hair and dressed her in a pretty but simple blue dress with a dark velvet corset over a light blue peasant blouse. Something about the outfit struck Mia as familiar, but any questions she would have asked, had she the chance to visit Vandsgaard prior to her time aboard the Jolly Roger, slipped by the wayside. She had not the energy nor the interest. She wasn't sure if she'd ever have any interest in anything ever again.

Mia found the carriage ride through the royal grounds and the town proper to be invigorating, in spite of herself. There were sights, sounds, and smells that were very different from those on Cerenopia. Under other circumstances, Mia would have liked to explore, maybe go on a tour. And with how easygoing Eric and Ariel were, she was certain they'd be willing to take her. But right now, more than anything, she just wanted to go home.

It was a short ride from Eric's castle to the hilltop facility that housed the Dreamport. This building was not too different, architecturally, from the castle and many other buildings she'd seen on the way. But walking through it felt like walking through an airport on Earth. There was a heavy amount of security. Soldiers garbed in royal blue kept the Dreamport under constant surveillance.

Mia supposed taking the Dreamports from one kingdom to another was sort of like crossing the boarder of one country into another on Earth. There was always some sort of security or boarder patrol to check your passport before letting you through. Mia didn't have a passport. She didn't know if such things were required in Dizgaia. But it didn't seem to matter. She had the luck of being who she was – the Dreamfinder's daughter.

At the end of the facility was an extension made of rock and earth, a natural part of the land that reached out over a cliff facing the sea. It was like a bridge to nowhere that ended in in a grand archway. Once she was up close, Mia saw that there were intricate, though vague, designs carved into the stone of the arch, and within the arch itself, a solid mirror. So this was a Dreamport. This was the first time Mia had seen one.

Near the mirror, a couple technicians hovered over a computer console. On their jackets they wore the familiar pink swirl symbol that Mia associated with the Imagination Institute.

"I wish we could have come together under better circumstances, Miandra," said Eric.

"Me too," said Mia. "And I'm sorry. I know I've been an absolute mess, but thank you for taking care of me. Both of you."

"Think nothing of it, Miandra. It was our honor and duty." Eric placed his hand over his chest and inclined his head to her.

Mia managed her first genuine smile for the King and Queen before turning to face the Dreamport. "So, uh... how does it work? I mean, do I just walk through it? Do I have to think or say where I want to go? Do the people on the computers activate it somehow?"

"If I may, your highness?" These words were spoken by a female technician with red-rimmed glasses who wore her blonde hair in a clip at the back of her head. She looked strangely eager.

"Please, Madeline," said Eric. "By all means."

"First of all, it's an honor to meet you, Miss Mercurial," she said, shaking Mia's hand vigorously. "I'm a huge fan of your father's work, _huge_ , and it would be my absolute pleasure to explain to you how this works."

Her colleague, a dark-haired man with a long ponytail, rolled his eyes in a way that seemed to say, _Here we go again._

"It's actually a mix of all those things you just said. While Dimitri," she gestured to her colleague, who slumped down in his seat as though he wished to be left out of her presentation, "and myself are in charge of the Dreamport's power supply, it's up to you to focus your mind to ensure you're going where you want to go. We're in contact with the Cerenopian technicians right now, and they're preparing for an incoming aperture. Just make sure that it's definitely Cerenopia you want to go to and focus on that and that alone."

Madeline glanced at Dimitri, who gave her an apathetic golf clap.

"Does that make sense, Miss?"

Mia nodded slowly. "Sure... And if I don't think of Cerneopia specifically and nothing else, God knows where I'll turn up, right?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much accurate," said Madeline.

Dimitri pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head as Madeline reclaimed her seat to activate the Dreamport. Eric gave Madeline an awkward smile which seemed to inquire if she could have possibly worded that better.

"Great. No worries then," Mia mumbled insincerely. She turned back to face the mirror, gulping nervously.

"Miandra."

Mia turned towards Ariel. The crimson-haired queen smiled warmly at her.

"You'll be all right," she said. "I promise."

Mia couldn't resist. She ran back to Ariel and hugged her tightly. Suddenly, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay and be babied by Ariel, a woman who couldn't be much more than two or three years older than herself; stay and have her hair brushed and be sung to sleep. Although she'd only been in Vandsgaard for such a short amount of time, Mia had become so dependent upon the warmhearted songstress. She was almost afraid to leave the safety and warmth of her arms; the only place she'd been able to escape from the heartache she'd suffered aboard the Jolly Roger. But, remembering her father and her other friends who were anxiously awaiting her return, Mia finally pulled away from Ariel's warm embrace and turned to Eric.

Swallowing back emotion, Mia extended her hand to him, tears welling in her eyes. She very much wanted to hug him, but she didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Eric exchanged a glance with Ariel, who simply smiled and nodded at him. Then, looking back at Mia, Eric spread his arms.

"Come here, you. Now's your chance to hug a king."

Grinning, Mia threw her arms around him and hugged him the way she might hug a favorite brother. She would never forget Eric. He would always be special to her – for he, the king of a nation, had risked his life and the life of his men to search for her and rescue her, even when he really had no obligation to be doing so in the first place.

"Take care of yourself," he said softly. "Don't make me come sailing to find you again."

"Yes, sir," she said. Then, to Ariel, "I never had the chance to properly thank your father for saving me. When you see him next, could you thank him for me?"

Ariel grinned as though she knew something Mia did not. "I believe he already knows how you feel," she replied, her gaze flicking down towards the waters below.

Mia followed her gaze to a mighty figure floating in the water far below the rocky cliff. King Triton himself had come to watch the proceedings from afar. Mia lifted a tentative hand in a farewell, mouthing the words 'thank-you.' It seemed her message was received, for the mer-king placed his hand on his broad chest, just over his heart, and offered her a regal bow. Mia chewed her lip as a small smile crawled across her face. Then, giving Eric and Ariel one last, wistful look, she turned to face the Dreamport.

Mia couldn't help feeling a little nervous. The only time she'd ever gone through a mirror was when her mother ran away with her, and she hardly remembered that, having only been a baby at the time. But it had resulted in her growing up on Earth, far away from her biological father and all knowledge of the beautiful world from which she'd come. And her last supernatural encounter with mirrors had been an altogether frightening one.

What if something went wrong? What if she accidentally ended up back on Earth with no way to return to Dizgaia, never to see the Dreamfinder and Figment again? Or worse... what if she ended up in Wonderland?

Nonetheless, she took a deep breath and said, "All right. I'm ready."

The techs gave her a thumbs-up. A humming sound began to issue from the machinery at the tech station. To Mia, it sounded not so unlike the curious, heavenly humming she'd once heard coming form the Gaia Sphere when she and her father had flown past it on the back of a giant Figment.

The engravings in the archway began to glow with rainbow-colored energy until, at the very top, the Imagination emblem lit up, shining a bright pink. The mirror, which moments ago had looked so solid, now wavered and shimmered, almost like water.

"We have 100% aperture!" Madeline announced.

Taking another deep breath, Mia closed her eyes and thought, _Cerenopia._

Then, she stepped through the mirror.

When next Mia opened her eyes, she found herself in a special research facility on the eastern side of Epcot. There were plenty of Royal Police present, just as there were soldiers back at Vandsgaard. Everything looked very different, as things always did when one arrives in a different country. Even though Mia had known what to expect, opening her eyes and suddenly finding herself in a completely different place on another part of the globe was still somewhat unsettling.

However, as her eyes fell upon her waiting friends and family, her anxiety melted away. They were all waiting for her. There was her father, the Dreamfinder, smiling with relief, and Figment hovering at his shoulder, looking fit to burst with glee. Even Cindy and Snow were there; Snow's hands clasped in front of her and Cindy's hand over her heart, looking ever so much like a worried big sister.

Mia tried to muster up a smile for them all, but all she managed was what felt like a squiggly, tremulous movement of her lips. With tears shining in his eyes, Blair opened his arms to his daughter, and though Mia was filled with love for him, and though the thought of his warm embrace was very enticing, she was suddenly overcome with a strong, horrible emotion that quite inexplicably compelled her to seek comfort, not in her father, but in a woman... specifically Cindy.

Mia burst into tears as she threw herself into the princess's arms. Surprised, Cindy staggered backwards, but she embraced Mia without hesitation. Mia buried her face against Cindy's chest and sobbed. What should have been a happy reunion was instead filled with nothing but tears.

"Shh... Shh... Easy now," said Cindy, softly caressing Mia's hair. "You're okay, Miandra. Everything's all right."

Mia tried to speak, but found she suddenly lacked the ability. Instead, she shook her head adamantly and continued to cry.

A lone figure stood behind Blair and the princesses, waiting for his turn to greet Miandra. But the young man went unnoticed. As the distraught young woman embraced Princess Cindy, she gave no signs that she'd seen, or would even care, that this young man was present. And so, looking awkward and out of place, and feeling very much like he was bearing witness to something that he had no right to be a part of, Kevin Flynn lowered his head and quietly slipped away.

Cindy placed a hand against Mia's forehead. "She's burning up," she murmured, casting Blair a worried look. "Come on, Miandra. Let's get you home."

~~~

Later that evening, after putting Mia to bed, Blair joined Cindy and Snow at the kitchen table, each nursing a cup of tea that none of them were really drinking.

"The doctor says it's a psychogenic fever from all the stress and emotional trauma she's suffered," Blair explained. "He says it should go away on its own eventually, but that until then, I ought to care for her as though she's truly ill."

Cindy and Snow nodded, neither knowing quite what to say. Blair took off his hat and set it aside. Sighing, he ran a hand through his wavy hair.

"I just don't understand it. She ran right past me. It was like I wasn't even there. Have I done something to upset her? Perhaps she's cross that I wasn't able to rescue her myself. Perhaps she feels I've failed her as a father."

"No, of course not, Uncle Blair!" Snow assured him, patting his hand. "I know Mianda doesn't feel that way. It's just that she's been through a lot. I'm sure it was all very traumatic for her. But she'll come around."

Cindy had remained silent throughout most of the conversation. She appeared to be lost in thought, having nothing to add to the conversation. Snow glanced at her sister and gave her a nudge.

"Uh, Cindy? You wanna help me out here? Show a bit of empathy or something?"

Cindy, who'd been staring pensively into her teacup, slowly turned her gaze upwards, her eyes meeting Blair's. "Oh, Uncle Blair," she sighed. "Isn't obvious? Miandra needed a woman's compassion today." When Blair gave her a blank look, Cindy said, "You really don't see it?" Before Blair could answer, "No, I suppose you wouldn't. Uncle Blair... Miandra has had her heart broken."

"W-What? Had her heart broken? But that would imply that she'd..." Blair hesitated, furrowing his brow in thought. "But in Neverland, the only ones who could have possibly..."

His eyes went wide and his face paled. He pushed his tea aside and lowered his head to the table.

"Suddenly I don't feel so well."

Snow exchanged a glance with her sister. "But which of them do you think it was?"

"Not now, Snow."

"But, I mean, Miandra was on Neverland for a long time. And from what King Eric said, she'd been aboard the Jolly Roger for a couple weeks at least. You don't think Miandra might've—"

"I said _not now,_ Snow," Cindy said sternly, shooting a meaningful look at Blair, whose head was on the table with his fingers in his hair, looking very much like he was about to scream and pull it out.

In Blair's mind, when it came to Neverland, there were only two possibilities as to who could have won his daughter's heart only to break it later. And one of them made his blood run cold. Could an agent of darkness, a legendary villain, have somehow seduced his daughter? And just what happened? He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but at the same time he did. He felt conflicted and ill over these thoughts. Very ill in indeed.

Cindy rose from her chair and hunkered down beside him, her slender fingers gently lifting his chin. "Uncle Blair... no matter what has happened, what Miandra needs more than anything right now is your support."

"She might be stand-offish at first," Snow warned.

"And as her father, she might not want to tell you anything," said Cindy.

"She probably thinks you won't understand," added Snow.

"But if you ever want to know, if you ever want to find out, if you ever want her to open up to you, you're going to have to be completely nonjudgmental. And you'll have to be gentle with her. On the other hand, you may never want to know. Either way, Miandra is feeling the worst that she'll ever feel in her young life. She's still your little girl, but she's also a young woman now; a young woman with complicated feelings. Right now, more than anything, she needs to know how much she's loved."

Blair nodded. Of course he would do these things. He loved Miandra more than anything. He'd do _anything_ to make sure his daughter was happy and loved. And, in a rare course of thought, if he ever came into contact with Peter Pan, he might well put the boy over his knee. And worst case scenario, should it be James Hook who had done Miandra ill, the pirate would find himself seeing stars from the flat of his back!

In time, the princesses departed and Blair was left alone in the house with a heartsick daughter. It was late, and though he doubted sleep would find him easily this night, Blair nonetheless put out the lights and climbed the stairs. But before heading for his bed, he opened the door to Miandra's room and slipped quietly inside to check on his daughter.

Miandra lay upon her bed in a feverish sleep. Figment, her beloved guardian, lay alongside her, his scaly little head resting on her knee, looking very much like a forlorn puppy watching over his young mistress. When Blair drew near, Figment lifted his head and, with a rare solemnity, brought a finger to his lips. Blair nodded.

"I wouldn't wake her for the world, Figment," he whispered. "Miandra needs her rest."

Blair trailed his fingers through his daughter's hair. Her breathing began to slow, becoming less ragged, as though she sensed a kindred presence. But she did not stir. Blair frowned. His poor daughter had already been through so much. Was, perhaps, his selfishness in wanting Miandra to stay here in Dizgaia causing her more harm than good? Why must it be such a challenge for the Mercurial family to be together again?

"It warms my heart to see you watching over her Figment," said Blair, giving the dragon a gentle pat on the head. "You take your duty as guardian very seriously, don't you?"

"I failed her, Dreamfinder," said Figment softly, his eyes on Miandra.

"Oh, Figment. Don't say that."

"But one thing's for sure..." Figment placed a scaly hand on Miandra's leg and gazed at her with a grim determination that Blair would not have previously thought Figment capable of. "I'll never let anything happen to her again."

Blair smiled as he gave Figment another gentle pat on the head. Leaving Miandra under the watchful gaze of her small guardian, Blair walked away, only to pause at the door. Turning back around, he closed his eyes and hummed a soft tune. His hands began to glow with Imaginergy and a soft, silver, twinkling light danced upon his palm. Blair brought his hand to his mouth and blew on the silvery dust. Suddenly, it was as though a starry night sky leapt from his palm to illuminate the ceiling above.

"I think J.M. Barrie said it best, Figment," said Blair as he gazed at the night sky floating above his daughter's bed. "Dear nightlights that protect my sleeping child... burn clear and steadfast tonight."

With a soft smile, The Dreamfinder left, closing the door behind him.


	47. Hook or Me

Dawn blossomed in golden splendor over the Isle of Neverland. Mermaids splashed in the lagoon and the native campfires began to blaze anew as the Paiqunee tribe prepared their breakfasts. Tiger Lily stood at the entrance to the village, her bow and arrows slung over her back. She had agreed to join the hunting party that morning, but they had gone on ahead and she lingered. From the hilltop village, her gaze swept out across the island, moving compulsively to Never Mountain.

Would today be the day Peter returned? And would he _ever_ return? Tiger Lily knew he must have found the Temple of Nev, for day after day she had circled the mountain in search of him, only to come up empty. He must have found a way inside. But beyond that, what had happened? Even the Lost Boys were gone. She could only assume that they had accompanied him.

Tiger Lily did not truly know what lay within the mountain and the Temple of Nev, aside from some vague legends passed down by her ancestors. There was the legend of the Eye of Neverland, of course, which Peter had gone in search of. As to whether or not it truly existed, Tiger Lily couldn't be certain. Nevertheless, it was this fabled gem which Peter sought. There were also tales of a guardian spirit – benevolent, but formidable if provoked. Tiger Lily did not know what fate may have befallen Peter and the Lost Boys. She could only hope that she would see her young friends again, for their own sake as well as another's.

With a sigh, Tiger Lily shouldered her quiver. It was time to join the hunting party. She'd just taken a couple steps down the dusty dirt path when she heard someone calling her name.

"Lily!"

She knew that voice... and yet something about it sounded different. Looking skywards, she saw a familiar figure silhouetted against the morning sun.

"Peter!" she exclaimed.

Peter landed on the ground in front of her, his fist raised triumphantly in the air. "Lily! I got it, I got it! I got the Eye!"

Glancing up at his fist, Tiger Lily could just glimpse a hint of green shimmering and refracting the sun's rays. Smiling, she said, "So you have, Peter Pan." But when she looked at his face, she took a half step back in surprise.

"What?" asked Peter. "What is it?"

"Peter... you've... changed somehow."

In response, Peter offered her a smile; a smile she had never seen him wear before. One that was filled with sorrow as well as joy. The smile of, not a boy, but a young man.

"I _have_ changed, Tiger Lily. At least a little. I am whole now."

Tiger Lily was not entirely sure what he meant, but neither did she question him. Whatever had happened to him in the Temple of Nev was between him and the spirit who guarded it. Still, appraising him now, she could almost understand. He was older, but not in the same tentative way in which he'd once vacillated between younger teen and older teen. This somehow seemed more permanent. And in his green, seafoam eyes, Tiger Lily saw something there that she'd not seen before. She couldn't quite put a name to it, but it seemed to be maturity, pain, heartache, joy, and hope all wrapped into one. It was the look of someone who has lived long and suffered much. The look of someone who has a past... and remembers it.

Tiger Lily placed her hand against Peter's cheek. It was no longer smooth, but rough like the sandy beaches of Neverland. He did not pull away or reject her touch with annoyance or mocking laughter as he once would have. He simply smiled at her.

"So you have, Peter Pan," she said softly. "So you have."

"Lily, where's Mia? I have to give this to her, and I must take her home as promised."

"Peter," said Tiger Lily, her expression suddenly grim. "I tried to find you. I—"

"Peter! Tiger Lily!"

"Whoo hoo!"

The six Lost Boys flew in for landing, only to tumble into a great heap at their feet.

"Oof!"

"Ouch!"

"Watch it, Slightly! That hurt!"

"It's not my fault! I was running low on pixie dust!"

Peter laughed liked a benevolent older brother. "C'mon, boys. Get up and brush yourselves off. You want to look presentable for Mia, don't you?"

"Peter," said Tiger Lily, her voice filled with a sense of urgency. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. Mia... Mia is gone. She was taken."

"Taken?!" exclaimed Peter, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. "By whom?"

"You'd best follow me," said Tiger Lily, as she turned and went back into the village.

Exchanging a worried glance with the Lost Boys, Peter followed. The native princess led him to her tent in the center of the village.

"The day you set off for Never Mountain, I went to your hideout as promised to collect Mia and take her to my village. But when I arrived, she was gone. And this..." she handed him a yellowed piece of parchment, "...was fastened to a tree with _this_." She then handed him a dagger with an elaborate black hilt inlaid with gold.

Peter could not read very well, but he knew what this meant just as sure as he knew the name at the bottom of the letter.

"Hook!" he growled. "He's taken her! He's taken Mia!"

He tried desperately to read the letter, but he could only make out a few words. Peter had never learned how to properly read. His friend, Wolf, had attempted to teach him once, long, long ago. But whatever he'd learned was now hazy with years.

"Tiger Lily," he said desperately, handing it back to her. "Can you read it?"

Nodding solemnly, Tiger Lily read the letter aloud.

" _Dear Peter,_

_Your presence is required at the request of your young lady friend. Should you wish to reclaim your maiden fair, you will meet me at sea three days hence, where we will do battle to prove once and for all who is the better. To the victor go the spoils._

_Kindest personal regards,_

_JAS Hook,_

_Captain."_

"In three days!" exclaimed Peter. "How long has it been, Lily?"

Lily frowned. "Fourteen suns have set on Neverland since you've been gone."

"Fourteen days..." said Peter, his face paling. "That's two weeks! But I couldn't have been gone for more than a day, surely!"

Tiger Lily shook her head. "I told you before, Peter; a few moments within will be as days outside."

"So long," Peter murmured, turning his gaze to the ground. "Oh, Mia..."

He closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. For a moment, Tiger Lily was convinced he was about to cry. But instead, he lifted his head, wearing a determined expression.

"Three days, two weeks, months, years... It doesn't matter! I'll rescue her!" Peter turned and fled the tent, nearly barreling over the Lost Boys who stood just outside.

"Peter!"

"What is it?"

"What's the matter?"

"Where's Mia?"

Peter hadn't the time to answer their questions. But just before he took to the skies, Tiger Lily stepped out of her tent and called after him.

"Peter! How will you know where to find him?"

Peter hesitated. "I... I don't know."

Tiger Lily walked towards him, coming to stand with him in the center of the village beneath the bright morning sun. "He will have moved on since then. Perhaps to one of the pirate safe harbors. The most infamous is Isla Tesoro."

"Isla Tesoro?"

Lily nodded. "Yes. That is where you should look first."

"But how do I get there?"

Lily pointed in a northeasterly direction in the sky. "Follow the rising sun, keeping it always at your right. By night, the stars will guide you. Look for the constellation that looks like a buccaneer's hat. That is the way to the scallywag's safe harbor."

Peter nodded.

"Be careful," she advised. "It may be a trap."

The young man offered her a cocky smirk reminiscent of his usual smiles. "It's _definitely_ a trap, Lily. But that doesn't matter. If Hook finds out who Mia really is, then she's in grave danger."

Peter and the native princess stood facing one another beneath the morning sun, two friends who, for the first time, matched one another in age.

"Peter," said Tiger Lily tilting her head and looking at the ground behind him. "You found your shadow."

This time, Peter's smile was softer with a hint of melancholy resignation. "So I have," he said. With one last, wistful look at his friends, Peter took to the skies. "Look after the Lost Boys!" he called.

"I will!" Tiger Lily promised.

"Peter!" cried the Lost Boys. "Where are you going?" But Peter was already halfway across the island.

First stop, the hideout.

Peter dropped through the trees, descending into the Neverwood so quickly that twigs and leaves rained down along with him, startling birds from their nests. He found the old oak tree, lifted the flap in the bark, and slid down the large hollowed-out root slide into his den. He must prepare for his journey with haste.

His sword hung at his hip, but his dagger and his bow and arrows would serve him well, too. Peter found his dagger on a bed of straw and leaves, the bed he'd made for Mia. He'd given her the dagger for defense and safekeeping, but it seemed she'd forgotten it. He ran to the corner and found his quiver. He loaded it with arrows before slinging it, along with his bow, over his back.

There was one last thing to be done. Peter went to his own small bedchamber, annexed off from the rest of the hideout by a hanging bearskin. Beside his bed was a small cubbyhole, created by a natural depression in the earthen wall. From within it, he took out a small wooden box which resembled something of a lady's jewelry box, dusty with age. He blew across the lid, sending the dust scattering and revealing the name crudely engraved upon it.

WENDY

It was the first word, aside from his own name, that he'd ever learned to write. Wendy herself had taught him, and he had made this small box for her as a gift during her time in Neverland, oh so very long ago. But when she returned to Earth, she had left it behind, along with the precious trinket inside; the acorn he'd once given her as a 'kiss' before he knew – or remembered – what a real kiss was. Wendy had stuck it on a dainty silver chain and wore it around her neck. The chain and the acorn were still inside the box, just as she'd left it. Before, Peter hadn't the heart to remove it. But now... things had changed.

Peter took the acorn off the chain. It was very old. Perhaps more than 100 years by now. For a moment, he held it in his palm, feeling a wave of sorrow wash over him. He allowed it to come and go, ebbing like the tide. Then, taking a deep breath, he whispered the words he'd never had the courage to say all these long years.

"Goodbye, Wendy."

He closed his hand tightly around the acorn. When he opened his fist, the acorn had crumbled to dust in his hand, which he gently blew away. Then, in its place, he strung the Eye of Neverland onto the chain and looped the chain around his neck, letting the gem rest against his chest.

"All right," he said to himself determinedly. "I'm ready."

Peter left the hideout and entered the Neverwood, armed for his journey. He paused briefly in the meadow beneath the fairy tree where he and Mia had once lay, sleeping the night away in one another's arms. Something on the ground caught his eye. Peter bent down to pick it up.

Charcoal. One of Mia's drawing pencils. Perhaps she had come out here to sketch when he went off in search of the Eye. Perhaps this was where she had been when Hook... Oh, he hated to think of Mia in that scoundrel's clutches! He squeezed the pencil, snapping it in half in his hand. Why, oh why didn't she listen to him and stay in the hideout?

A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, carrying with it the sound of bells. Peter glanced up to see a glowing orb floating towards him through the woods like a golden will-o'-the-wisp.

"Tink!" he exclaimed. "Where've you been?"

What sounded merely like a tinkling of bells and chimes to everyone else, was like a soft voice in Peter's ears.

" _Around. Where are_ you _going?"_

"I'm leaving Neverland," said Peter, standing to his full height and brushing the charcoal off his hands.

_"No! Why?"_

"To save Mia! She's been kidnapped by Hook!"

_"Oh. I wondered what had happened to her."_

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" asked Peter, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

Tinkerbell bristled indignantly. " _Why would you think_ I _had anything to do with it?"_

"Because you don't exactly have the best track record. Your jealousy is notorious. And let's not forget that incident with Wendy Darling."

_"That was a long time ago,"_ she huffed.

"You've been jealous of Mia from the very beginning. Are you really telling me you didn't do anything to her?"

Tinkerbell flushed a guilty shade of pink. " _Well... I... I suppose I_ did _do something I'm a little ashamed of."_

"So you admit you did something!"

_"It was a brief lapse of judgement! I was angry because you weren't spending time with me anymore. She was taking up all your attention. So I tricked her into going to the lagoon so the mermaids would drown her."_

"Tinkerbell! I ought to squash you like a bug!" he shouted, making a swipe at her.

_"But she was okay!"_ Tinkerbell insisted, dodging his hand. _"She survived! She came back to the hideout. All is well!"_

"I see," said Peter tersely. "Well, for your sake, be happy she survived that. If anything happened to her, it wouldn't be my wrath alone that you'd have to face."

_"What do you mean?"_

"Tink... Mia is the Dreamfinder's daughter."

_"WHAT?!"_

"Yes," he said gravely. "Which is why I must rescue her as quickly as possible. It is a danger to her, and to us all, if Hook finds out who she is. He would deliver her to the Dark Ones. And I can't... I _won't_ let that happen." He turned his back on the pixie. "Now leave me. If you are nothing but a jealous fairy, then I am your friend no more."

_"Let me come with you."_

"Come with me?" asked Peter, glancing back over his shoulder. "Why? You don't even like Mia."

_"Well, you see, I feel somewhat responsible."_

"Responsible how?" asked Peter, turning around to give her another suspicious glare.

_"She confronted me after the incident at the lagoon. She was angry but merciful to me, which just made me angrier. Who is_ she _to forgive me like she's some kind of high and mighty—"_

"Get to the point, Tink," said Peter, crossing his arms impatiently.

Tinkerbell's sigh was like the tinkling of a tiny bell. " _So I took her bag, the one with all her drawings and writings, and I dumped it out here. I think that may have been when Hook kidnapped her, though I can't be sure because I flew away."_

"You _what_?!"

_"But I didn't know Hook and his pirates were in the woods!"_

"But you didn't know Hook and his pirates were in the woods," Peter repeated in disbelief.

_"Honest!"_

Peter's eyes narrowed. "You swear it?"

Tinkerbell drew a diagonal line across her chest with her index finger; first one way, and then the next, crossing her heart.

"Very well," Peter sighed. "If you wish to come with me, I won't deny your companionship." He hesitated. "I... I _have_ missed you, Tink."

_"Oh, Peter! I've missed you too!"_ Tinkerbell flew towards him to tweak his nose affectionately, but Peter held up a finger, stopping her in her tracks.

"But if you are to come with me, understand this. I love Mia, and I intend to tell her so. And if you care about me at all, you won't stand in my way."

Tinkerbell lowered her head and was silent for a moment. Then, " _Very well, Peter,"_ she said softly. " _So long as my friend you remain, I will not harm the one you love."_

Peter's trademark grin returned. "Good," he said. "I'll hold you to that."

He lifted off the ground and flew up out of the Neverwood, Tinkerbell following. Peter hovered over the trees, his arms crossed and his eyes on the rising sun.

"Hold on, Mia. I'm coming for you," he said solemnly. Then, glancing at Tinkerbell, "It's Hook or me this time!"

And off he flew over the vast seas of Dizgaia in search of his storyteller, his friend... the girl he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever may have read this... Thank you! I hope you enjoyed. I have a second volume, Dizgaia ~ Sorcerer's Apprentice, which I will be posting to AO3 soon. If you enjoyed this, please keep an eye out for that one. I will henceforth be marking this story as part of a series.
> 
> Thanks again, and feel free to leave comments! Feedback is always appreciated. =)


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